BEHIND
THE DIAMOND
PANES
1 he story of a Fife mining community
by
BOB HOLMAN
Cowdenbeath, 1952
PRINTED BY
WEST FIFE PUBLISHING COMPANY LTD.
34 BRUCE STREET, DUNFERMLINE
\
I2S ^st-. rr —■•
The characteristic Diamond Panes of Fordell village
FOREWORD
II Hi history books of Scotland record the time and place
ol' great events in our National history. But much of the
record of the Scottish people is lost for want of a recorder.
Morc's the pity.
In bygone days, communities were established near the
M-i-nc of industry and prospered while they served their pur-
pose. Then they passed away leaving little more than a pang
of regret in the hearts of those who knew their joys and
NOITOWS.
Old mining villages had a special atmosphere, with habits
unci customs which passed from one generation to another,
and the village of Fordell in the County of Fife was a very
outstanding example.
The old rows of houses have served their day and gener-
ation. New homes have been found for the village people
in nearby towns and villages and little is left to tell their story.
This book records in simple language the wealth of char-
ititcr and warmth of heart that used to dwell in Fordell
village. It illustrates the pawky humour and neighbourly
I'celing that made life worth living in times that were hard
unci often sorely trying. The author did not intend this book
(o be a classic of the English language. But by his real under-
standing of miners and mining folk, Bob Holman has made
il worthy of its subject.
Whether you were born in Fordell, or in nearby Doni-
bi islle as I was, or just somewhere else in Scotland, you will
Unci much pleasure, as I did, in reading these pages — so full
ol' human sympathy.
WILLIAM REID,
( Yossgates, Chairman,
|.'jfc, Scottish Division,
October, 1952. National Coal Board.
*jUSflWuk^
M
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
THE author thanks many of his old Fordell friends for their
great assistance in writing this book. Also to Mr Morris
Allan, photographer, Dunfermline, for his assistance and
photos; to Mr Inglis, Alva, for use of photographic blocks.
For that beautiful and encouraging friendship with the family
I submit appreciation and thanks to Dr W. Reid.
CONTENTS
Page
The Paraud
11
The Great Day and its origin
16
Preparation and appointment of Deacon
19
On the March
21
1 he Paraud Denner
22
Fordell Ball ;
24
The Paraud Sports
27
Spirit of the prizes
29
The Markinch cabbage
32
The Brass Band
36
Well known players
39
The Flooer Show
43
lordcll "Store"
47
The Fordell Watties
51
"Paddy" Clark and the " Berridges "
54
Nehulc days and the Dominie
56
Schulc leaving
58
Coortin' days
60
A Fordell waddin' :
63
A private waddin' ...
66
The Readin' Room Denner
72
The Sunday school picnic
74
The evenin' danner wi' music
77
Neebors a' ... ■•• •
79
The toll of the pits
83
My brothers keeper
85
John Tamson's bairns
89
The Lowdeners
92
Mr Currie and family
94
Hoys will be boys
97
A tough breed
. 100
Under the surface ...
102
The care of the aged
104
A village family
.. 105
Heroic women
.. 108
Selcrday nicht ...
.. 113
Slory of the Fordell miners ...
.. 114
Personal stories and anecdotes
.. 120
ILLUSTRATIONS
THE DIAMOND PANES Frontispiece
PICTURE OF ST DAVID'S HARBOUR
WILLIAM PIT, LAST OF THE OLD FORDELL PITS
THE COALEDGE TAVERN
ONE OF THE ORIGINAL FORDELL WAGGONS
FORDELL BRASS BAND
MR AND MRS SMART AND THEIR FAMILY
REV. JOHN CLARK, ROBBIE HARDIE, FRED STEVEN
HARRY LAUDER; JOHN SMART; JOHN BENNET SMART-
PICTURED WITH THEIR WIVES
INTRODUCTION
I u RE is a story of a small mining community in Scotland,
.lose to the main Kirkcaldy-Dunfermline Road, yet with a
w;iy of life peculiar to it, a village of less than two hundred
people complete in itself, inhabited by generations of the
same families for hundreds of years. A community of hard-
headed, practical inhabitants, with a kindly outlook, yet of
I I ic most conservative nature; they practically cut themselves
from the outside world but lived for themselves not as in-
dividuals but as a village. Independent to a fault, just living
on the existence line, they sought assistance from no outside
<iuarter to attend to their needy and aged, but did so them-
selves with a modesty that shunned publicity. True they
had limited recreation and amusements mostly as village
nccrns and were thus, all the more enthusiastically carried
co
Ollt.
In connection with their one form of employment, namely,
coal mining, there were two unique features, a private rail-
way—one of the very few in Britain— that took the coal from
I ho village mines to a private harbour on the Fife coast
live miles away, in characteristic small hand-braked waggons
l hat had done service for over two hundred years. Like the
miners the colliery proprietors were also members of gener-
al ions of one family whom the miners served with unbroken
devotion.
Dedicated to the memory of my late wife Rankin
and our late daughter Kitty
without whose encouragement
the book would never have been written..
CHAPTER I.
The Paraud
THERE was great activity at the old school house.
From my position on a prominent part near the
College Brae I stood watching, waiting.
From the different rows of miners' houses dressed
children came hurrying out followed by such cries as " noo
Tam, dinna get dirtied afore the ' paraud ' or yir f aither'U
skin you alive." Back came the answer invariably, " A' richt,
mither."
Then followed a shout, a chance interrogation cry, " Are
you ready, Willie," and without waiting for a reply Tam made
a wild rush round Coles Terrace to run full tilt into a com-
panion whom he had said he would " fecht wi' ae arm tied
roon ma back."
That was all forgotten, for was not this the yin day o' the
year! The twa bools and the plunker they were fighting aboot
when the schulemaister stopped them Tam was willing to
give his rival for nothing.
I saw a number of laughing young women beautifully
dressed in white coming along arm in arm from the direction
of Lovers' Lone. One carried a decorated sash of many col-
ours in which ribbons formed the principal gaudiness.
How were they dressed? Just as I expected — some with
hats and some without, but all had long hair hanging behind
and, in front, the inevitable " frizz."
A stop was made as the girls, seeing some male com-
panions standing at the Gaffers Gate, cried out their customary
salutations such as " Hullo Wull, has yir mither let ye oot? "
and "Mind that reel you promised me." The replies were
no less characteristic but the greetings and salutations were
soon changed from the verbal to the more intimate and soon
Wull had his arms around Jean's neck to give her a " Chinney
Beardie."
If the object was to give Jean a rosy complexion then
the operation was highly successful, and generally Wull's face
was also red from the exertion required and the result of
one or two hard slaps from Jean in her struggles to get free.
Soon a favoured young man was honoured with "try
12 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
on the sash," and when he did there were words of admir-
ation — " Man Rab you look real like the thing." However
their fun was for the time being brought to an end by a
shout from an elderly man who cried out, " Here dinna mess
that sash aboot if I have to wear it the day. Come on, let me
see it and let us see what kind o' job you lasses have made
o't this time."
" By, that's braw," was his only comment as he admired
the work of the girls, who had stayed up late the night before
to sew in the many ribbons which hung from the sash.
" Wha's to pit it on? You Jeannie? Come on then lass.
Let me bend doon. That's richt. Noo for the usual kiss. That's
fine, that taks thirty years aff my life, Jeannie."
A loud banging on a drum nearby caused a stir and
there was a cry, " There's Peter Gibb the drummer wanting
the Paraud to start."
Yes, I saw this scene from the College Brae as my mind
went back sixty years. The boy rushing from his mother's
house was myself.
The scene I had recalled was Fordell Paraud, a scene I
had pictured scores of times hundreds of miles away, but
here I was revisiting the scenes of my youth, unrecognised
and unknown.
Coles Terrace was unchanged and no doubt it was the
shape of the small diamond-shaped windows in the houses,
the old school still the same, the " Lovers' Lone," the old
pit in Douglas Cottages, the roof of Fordell Store, the Pan-
nies playground, and Day Level Pit, near the unchanged
Workshops, that made the picture so easy to imagine.
Yes, there it was, and as I lay with closed eyes in that
field with my back to a hay rick, no cinema picture could be
clearer.
Soon the rounding up by Peter Gibb on his drum did
what was necessary. Near by was " Robbie Hardie " ; I
recognised him quite distinctly. All he wanted was to get to
hit that drum, but Peter replied, " no the noo." However,
Robbie, years later, replaced Peter Gibb on that drum, and
realised the ambitions he had that day.
" Come on, you boys," cried the Deacon. (All men are
boys on Paraud Day in Fordell. They are only men when
appealed to). " We havena a' day to get ready." Then right
in front went the Deacon, proud of his sash. I easily recognise
him, it is Rab Penman.
" Twinny " Beveridge, the band leader, gets his men out.
I recognise them all with their new uniform, including their
THE PARAUD 13
pill box caps. They take their places behind the Deacon.
The Committee come next and the procession marches a few
paces forward to allow the " Hill Women," pithead girls, all
dressed in white, arm in arm and in threes, to take their
place.
Then follow the villagers who never miss a "paraud."
The names? Why they were nearly all Beveridges! There
was Beveridge A, Beveridge B, Beveridge C, Beveridge D,
and aye, there was Beveridge (Wilson) and Beveridge
Dumplin'. Others were there; yes, there was Tam Dryburgh,
Willie Smart, Johnnie Japp, the other members of the Pen-
man family, Peter, Eck and Tam, with their sister, Aggie,
looking on with admiration at her brother the Deacon.
Then came the schoolchildren, wonderfully quiet for a
Paraud morning. The reason was that the " schulemaister,"
Mr James Currie, senior, was looking on. Only an occasional
cheer until the procession got beyond his sight, and then
they were beyond his control.
" Are you ready, boys," said Jimmy Carmichael, and at
a nod of his head, Peter Gibb sounded the first beat of his
drum. At the third the Paraud marched off to the tune of
" Ho, Ho, The Merry Masons." One loud cheer drowned the
first few notes and soon the procession was on its way.
There was no denying the Paraud was an impressive
sight. The parade as it left the old school was one of which
all the people in the village were justifiably proud.
In the bright sunshine of the mid-summer morning the
procession marched gallantly down the road. Fordell Brass
Band was on the lead, while at intervals standard-bearers
carried banners, the poles of which were gaily decorated with
flowers, begged, borrowed or stolen the night before from the
flower gardens.
It was Fordell's great event of the year, which extended
to three days, and in the celebrations no outsider was allowed
to participate. The only exception was when extra bands were
needed for the Paraud, and on one occasion three bands were
actually in the procession. After the procession these outside
musicians were again " strangers " and dare not use the fact
of their being " in the band " for one day, as a means of
breaking through the rigid rule that strangers were not
wanted.
Any attempt to get past the rules, that could not have
been more stringent had they been drafted into a constitution,
was defeated by a solid village veto. This was the unwritten
law of the village, which included part of Mossgreen until
14 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
recent years. "From January till January and a' day and
every day, year in and year oot."
There were several who tried to break down that rule,
but the attempts always failed, and if a " stranger " came to
reside in Fordell he was generally frozen out in a short time.
I remember on one occasion three families of miners com-
ing to Fordell in one day from the Lothians. There were
instantly meetings and consultations, for while the ordinary
stranger was not wanted, " Lowdeners " were openly detested.
They could " thole " folk from Crossgates or even Doni-
bristle or " Dirthill," as it was called, though they would not
confer the honour of allowing them to be looked upon as
villagers, but " Lowdeners " to come and bide in Fordell,
why it was an outrage!
Short of sending round the village bell to call a meeting
and ask them to leave the way they came— namely, by Aber-
dour and the Leith ferry — everything else was done. The
women of the village discussed the " outrage " at the " wall,"
and the men discussed the matter at the " College." The " hill
women " had the question before them at " piece time." The
only ones, however, who really took drastic action were the
schule bairns. The girls refused to speak to the girl
" strangers." The boys went further; they stoned the boys
from the schule at Mossgreen.
Mr Currie, the schoolmaster, got to hear of this and his
threats of the tawse had some effect — at least the boys in
attendance at school stopped the stone throwing. Still no one
could stop the villagers from thinking and looking in an
unfriendly way or passing remarks.
" How long must a person be a stranger in Fordell?",
was often asked by those outside the sacred precincts denned
by the Bulwark and the Durham Raw. In the minds of some
a stranger could never become a Fordell native.
Maggie Watson, who came to the village as a bride, used
to say that it would take fifty years for her to pass the initi-
ation ceremony. Yet she was married to one of the
" Berridges," as the name Beveridge was called, a family
which may have been one of the founders of the village. If
that is true, then Maggie has not long passed into the sacred
circle of Fordellites, but no doubt to the children of the real
Fordeilites Maggie was always a stranger.
A friend of mine was walking past Mossgreen Church-
yard one Saturday morning many years ago when he saw a
funeral. The cortege had come up the College Brae.
He knew quite a number of persons in Fordell and a iked
THE PARAUD 15
who was getting buried, but the reply that it was only a
stranger put the question of identification of the dead person
out of his mind.
To his surprise a month later, he found that the person
who was being buried was an old acquaintance of his — a
workmate who had been resident in the village for forty
years.
But there was another irritant feature of the invasion of
the three families from the Lothians. One of the men wore a
hat. Not only so, but he wore it every day. This was unheard
of.
On the first day after the man came from his work in the
Lady Ann Pit, and after he got washed and had his dinner,
he appeared in the Old Square wearing a bowler hat. This
was an outrage— a miner, a common or ordinary miner,
wearing a hat! The only man in Fordell or nearby who wore
a hat " through the week " was the minister, John dark.
The colliery manager nor the gaffer, not even the doctor,
wore a hat on week days. Hidden away in a trunk in every
house in Fordell was a hat of some sort, a tile hat or a round
hat, but they were not for ordinary occasions. They were for
funerals, not even for ordinary kirk service, and after the
funeral they were carefully dusted, put into a paper bag and
laid away for the next occasion when a native died.
Here was a man who wore a hat every day, even to
" gaun to the toon " with his wife to carry home the week's
groceries. Why the thing was preposterous! Soon he became
known by no name except " The Man wi' the Hat."
He even went to a quoiting match with his hat, and
when the local man who was upholding the quoiting reputa-
tion of Fordell lost the match, his only excuse was — "Hoo
can a body play wi' a man wi' a hat lookin' on?"
CHAPTER II.
The Great Day and its origin
BY this time those of you who are not versed in the
history of Fordell will be wondering what this
Paraud actually was. You will have ere this associated the
word with Parade, but you will be wondering why the parade,
why the holiday festivity, and why it should be associated
with this little out of the way and, for generations, isolated
mining village of Fordell.
Well, you were quite right with the association with the
word parade, but the reason why this parade should be held
every year in Fordell makes quite an interesting story.
An old friend of mine, who saw many Fordell Parades,
used to recite the words of a song which, she said, was com-
posed by a Fordell man. Of this song I can only remember
one verse and the chorus. They ran as follows: —
Then we went to Anson Hill,
The barrels were there wi' five guinea ale,
And the ravens got in to spill
On the 20th day of July.
Chorus: —
Hurray, Hurray, for the Fordell Laird,
Lang in Fordell may they be spared,
And the miners' bounty even shared
On the 20th day of July.
To me it seemed rather two verses of the song than a
verse and chorus, but they verify a few things I heard about
the Paraud. Firstly, the event was held on 20th July each
year or the Friday nearest that date. The song also proves
that some of the festivities took place at Anson Hill, which
is still the home of the manager of the Fordell Coal Com-
pany, and opposite Mossgreen Church.
The ravens, my informant said, were not of the crow
family but a name given to the men of the village of the
more boisterous type who laid siege to the barrels of " five
guinea ale."
As to the origin of the Paraud, I have got all my inform-
ation from old inhabitants — information which has been
handed down for generation, and I offer no further proof.
THE GREAT DAY AND ITS ORIGIN 17
Fordell is one of the oldest mining districts in Scotland
or England. Old shafts in fields and many in gardens walled
round about, and remnants of shafts long since filled in, give
ample evidence of this. Nearly every field has such an old
coal pit shaft, and in several there is still evidence of wooden
stairs that tell of the days when the women walked up the
shafts carrying the coals in creels or wicker baskets.
The earliest coal pits belonged to the lairds or ground
proprietors, and at Fordell it is well known the laird was
always a Henderson, to whom I will refer later. In these early
days of mining not only did the coal pits belong to the lairds,
but the miners belonged to him as well, so that when the pits
changed hands the miners went with them, and they had a
new master whom they had no option but to serve.
The miners were serfs, and exaggerated stories handed
down from generation to generation tell of how they were
chained to the hutches and how any " gangrel body " walking
past the coal mines was liable, as in the days of the press-
gang, to be seized and turned into a serf of the mines.
There was never any doubt about the miners being serfs
or slaves, but it is surprising how the stories arose of miners
being chained to hutches.
There were no deep shafts in these early days, and from
the appearance of coal workings at Blairadam, recently ex-
posed by the working of a quarry for " blae " to make bricks,
the bottom of the shaft was only a few feet from the surface.
There was no doubt that in the early days of coal mining
in Fordell, or even at Dunfermline, it was the " crap oot," or
surface seams, which were worked, the inlet being at the
place where the coal " cropped out " or, in other words, came
to the surface.
These days of serfdom had, of course, to come to an
end, and this introduces the origin of the Fordell Paraud.
The Laird of Fordell realised that the freedom of the miners
was coming soon and, no doubt, being in sympathy with the
movement for legislation that was going on to liberate them,
he granted them their freedom exactly a year before the time
when it became law, and set a splendid example and assisted
in the passing of the act.
The Fordell miners, to commemorate the occasion,
organised the Fordell Paraud, a day of rejoicing for their
liberation.
I cannot tell you the exact date on which the Fordell
miners got their freedom from serfdom, but it was a very
long time ago.
B
18 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
I have been told that the Day Level, an underground
waterway connecting all the pits in Fordell to an outlet near
Fordell House, was made by French prisoners in the time of
the Napoleonic War, and, if that is so, then the Paraud must
have been started before that time, and may have been cele-
brated in the 18th century.
What is known is that the Paraud Day was near as
possible to the 20th July, a date referred to in the song I
have quoted above. As can be understood, it was a very im-
portant event in the village life of Fordell, for it lasted three
days — Friday, Saturday and Monday. The absence of cele-
brations on Sunday denotes that the observance of the sanctity
of the Sabbath must have also been a strong point in the life
of the miner, as it was in the life of all the people of Scotland.
CHAFfER III.
Preparations and appointment
of Deacon
FOR three months in the year the thoughts of the
villagers were on the Paraud. In the month of May
each year a written notice appeared on the pitheads stating
that a meeting would be held to appoint a Deacon and
Committee.
These notices were sufficient to bring a large crowd to the
scene of the meeting, namely, The Pannies, a pieces of com-
munal ground between the colliery office and the Engine Pit,
but to ensure a large crowd the Brass Band paraded the
principal rows of houses and then made for the Pannies,
followed by the inhabitants.
The Deacon of the previous year called the meeting to
order, a duty that for many years fell on Peter Penman, then
on his oldest son, Peter. There was little difficulty in choosing
the Deacon as it was nearly always a case of re-election, that
rule being only broken by death or illness.
Thus Peter would be elected again, and then would follow
the election of the Committee, a word that was always pro-
nounced with a long "tee."
Then would follow the nomination of such prominent men
of the village as John Japp, James Hope, Tom Beveridge,
Bob Ramsay, Twinny Beveridge, Eck Penman, Rab Penman,
Wattie Muir. The Committee would be elected, the meeting
would end, the band would render a few selections and would
play back to the old school, their meeting-place, generally
by way of the College, where little encouragement would
make them stop to partake of the hospitality of Mrs Hamilton.
The Committee, with the Deacon appointed, lost no time
in getting to business. Because of a special privilege by the
Sheriff the Deacon of Fordell Paraud had a special licence
to sell beer and spirits for six weeks before the Paraud and
six weeks after it. This meant that the Deacon's house was
turned into a miniature public-house for three months.
The Committee would make their usual calls on Fordell
Store to ask the price of the barrel of beer. For many years
20 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
the tenant of Fordell Store was a Mr James Hamilton, son
of Mr Hamilton of St. David's, but no one in Fordell used
such a formal name as James, it was always " Jimmy."
Later Messrs. Fraser & Carmichael, Dunfermline, leased
the premises, and in turn the managers were first of all James
Dick, or rather, to follow the local custom, Jimmy Dick,
now of D.C.I. Ltd., Dunfermline, and later Fred Steven, later
resident in Cowdenbeath.
The Committee would inevitably . tell the manager that
his price was more than Mrs Hamilton's — price that was in
every case a shilling or two less than the figure wanted by the
Fordell Store. Then when the price was reduced to that of
Mrs Hamilton's, the Committee would march to Mrs Hamil-
ton and inform her that she would get her share of the order
of beer at the same price as they were getting it at Fordell
Store.
It was only when Mrs Hamilton and Fred Steven met to
discuss matters, that they found how they had been done,
and yet the next year the same trick was played.
The whisky the Committee bought direct from the Grange
Distillery at Burntisland — always a grand excuse for a jaunt
to the coast town.
The special licence to the Committee was seldom abused.
The barrels of beer were kept in a cellar either at the Fordell
Store or at the College and were taken away in pails as re-
quired. The Deacon was the keeper of the keys of the cellars.
In the days before the McKenzie Act restricted the licen-
sing hours there were a few late nights, but auld Peter Penman
did not favour such events, and with his customary, " Working
day the morn, chaps," he got his room cleared at quite a
reasonable hour.
" Eck " Penman, who told me that he was never the
Deacon but often had the chance of the honour, and that his
oldest brother, Peter, still alive and resident in Brand's Build-
ings, Crossgates, and over ninety years of age, was reputed
to be a very strict Deacon and did not give the habitues of
the house at 1 Monteith Terrace too much rope or too much
drink.
" He steyed in this very hoose I am steyin' in noo, as
oor fether, Peter Penman, afore us, the auldest Deacon I
mind o'," said Alexander. " Peter is the only Deacon left,
and wi' Davie Philip, noo bidin' in Cowdenbeath, and me,
the last members of Fordell Paraud Committee."
CHAPTER IV.
On the March
AGAIN I visualise the Paraud on its way to the Big
Hoose at Fordell after the procession has made a
tour of the village. They proceed by way of the mineral
railway on which is taken the coal to St. Davids, a private
port on the Forth, owned by the proprietors of the Fordell
Colliery. Of course a Fordell Wattie never says St. Davids,
but the broad version of the name — St. Dauvids.
Along the railway the road breaks off to Fordell House,
and I can see the happy gathering approaching Fordell House
with Fordell Brass Band still leading. I can see Lady Hender-
son coming forward to welcome the marchers. After the part
of the welcome which is verbal and is recipcrocated, I can
see the " spiritual " welcome which is very much to the liking
of the older men in the procession and they are soon toasting
the hostess, the lairds who have gone before, and all persons
connected with the Henderson family.
In another corner the pithead girls are each presented
with a pound of sweets and the merriment increases, to be
broken into by a general invitation to inspect the gardens.
Then comes the time when they must return to Fordell,
and the procession again forms up to make the return journey
by way of Crossgates, Springhill and Mossgreen. The whole
countryside could not mistake that it was the day of Fordell
Paraud.
At Anson Hill, the home of the colliery manager, every-
thing was in preparation for more festivities. The manager,
whether it was in the days of Mr Robertson or Mr Morton,
received the people and, according to the song, " The barrels
were there wi' five guinea ale." Some idea of the exuberance
of the male section of the paraders can be gained by the
following line — "And the ravens got in to spill."
There was something for everyone, old or young, and the
fun went on apace until well on in the night. The children,
tired with their play, went home to bed, but not so the older
people.
CHAPTER V.
The Paraud Denner
I O the menfolk who were in the know and in favour
JL with the Committee the attraction was the Paraud
Dinner in the house of the Deacon — and what a night!
The principal item on the menu for the dinner was " saut
fish," mostly " saut skate," a dish that required days of pre-
paration. Not only days, but nights too, were required, as
for days previously the salted skate and cod had been lying
on the tiles of the house to get it into the right condition.
During the Paraud Day this had been boiled and was ready
to be served on that night of nights in the Fordell calendar.
I can quite understand a smile of understanding on your
face at salt fish being the principal item on the menu that
night. The same suspicion often entered my mind as it
entered the minds of many more, and I venture to suggest
that we are all right.
A miner's house then, as it has been the order for many
years until a few years ago, was a " but and ben." The " but "
was the kitchen and the " ben " the parlour, bedroom and
sitting-room all rolled into one.
It was in such a two-roomed house that the Paraud
Denner was held for many years at No. 1 Monteith Terrace.
No. 10 Downing Street to Londoners is of no more import-
ance than No. 1 Monteith Terrace was to the Fordell
villagers.
There were " tatties " with jackets off and " tatties " with
jackets on, and the meal was served with beer drawn from
a barrel in the corner. When the crowd was largest, this meal
was served in both the " but " and the " ben."
The chairman, the Deacon, made everyone feel at home
and with song and music, in which a raelodeon or fiddle
figured, the fun went on until midnight, when the revellers
reluctantly took their leave, reluctant because of the know-
ledge that the chairman could not use his customary warning
about next day being a working day.
A little after midnight a policeman would make his
appearance, but all he could see were small groups of the
oldest men discussing, in not too low voices, of how many
THE PARAUD DENNER 23
Parauds they had seen, what to their minds had been the
best Parauds, and what each of them would do if he was the
Deacon.
There is nothing like a drink just a little over the moderate
stage to revive memories and to make all the world sociable,
and in the early morning at many a comer-end stories were
told of Paraud Day experiences of many years before. The
glories, traditions, and accomplishments of Fordell Brass
Band were always brought to the fore, and as a large number
of the gathering at the Paraud Denncr were members or past
members of the band, stories of the band's performances were
told with pride. These stories were inter-mixed with details
of ploys that brought out hilarious laughter.
Such incidents detailed in great detail, often at the expense
of one of the company or a relative, refreshed the memory of
other such incidents and often " Do you mind o' yon? "
started another. Real danger was introduced when someone
started an argument on the merits of the original flute band
compared with the brass band that followed, but the danger
of a first-class lively scene was averted by a timely jocular
remark. Gradually the gathering started to disperse in twos.
As the door of one of the revellers was reached, a feminine
voice would ring out, " Are ye no' comin' in the nicht, Wull.
You had better say ' guid nicht,' or ' guid mornin' ' raither."
" A' richt, Leeb," one would reply, " I'm jist comin' in,
just wait a wee while till I see Tam roond the coarner." A
few minutes later one reveller would get home shouting about
how he would meet his pal of the previous night at the sports
to-day and he was " gey weel shure he would bate him in the
auld man's race."
" You never supped the parritch," came the reply.
The last words, however, were more pleasant and were
generally, " I'll see you the morn," forgetting the day had
been begun already by about two hours.
CHAPTER VI.
Fordell Ball
I WISH I could take all my readers back sixty or seventy
years with me to the old School in Fordell on the night
of Fordell Ball.
Some may ask if the village could only boast one dance
in the year. Certainly not; they had several dances, including
the Foresters' Ball, the Gardeners' Ball, and others, but in
the life of the village there was only one " Fordell Ball." It
was always on the Friday, the first night of the Paraud cele-
brations, and was held in the Auld Schule.
Now just have a look into the building, which you will
see is crowded, and between nine o'clock and ten o'clock
others are still being squeezed in.
There are the two fiddlers on a suspiciously rocky platform
made up of hali seats. Yes, it is Willie Berridge and partner
from Crossgates and they have just finished playing the first
dance, which is the Grand March round the hall and then
there is the call " Get set for the Circassian Circle."
The changing of partners in this dance always acts as a
kind of re-union, and the different greetings round the hall is
ample indication that the company of dancers are about the
same as the previous year.
One thing will have struck you also, and that is that there
is no array of ball dresses and frocks. That is quite true, as
it is a recognised rule that the young ladies must come in
the dresses they have worn during the day's Paraud cele-
brations.
There is no doubt you will have recognised by this time
that this is responsible for a more than usually happy gather-
ing, and the want of that reserve generally associated with the
wearing of orthodox ballroom garments.
Unlike the other dances in the village, no written or printed
invitations were sent out. They were not required. The danc-
ing element of the village had been looking forward to this
night, and all who cared to come forward were admitted,
until the room was filled to its utmost capacity. Even when
that stage was apparently reached, others got in.
In the earlier days of the Fordell Ball, there was the
FORDELL BALL 25
selection of the belle of the ball, and stories are still plentiful,
and handed down with a certain amount of pride, of how
someone's aunt, mother, or even grandmother, was the belle
of Fordell Ball one particular year.
The young ladies marched round the hall and a selection
committee, after careful judging, for their decision was always
very much criticised, chose the belle of the ball. This honour
meant that the chosen one's partner for the night had to pay
forfeit sweets to the young ladies and something equally
acceptable to the men.
Gradually the selection of the belle came to be recognised
by the company that a certain young lady was the prettiest
dressed and most attractive present, but no forfeits were paid.
There is an old song to the tune of Kelvin Grove still
remembered by those who frequented Fordell Ball, and the
Chorus went as follows: —
Are you gaun to Fordell Ball, bonnie lassie oh?
Are you gaun to Fordell Ball, bonnie lassie oh?
If you gaun to Fordell Ball, I will dress you like a doll,
Wull you gaun to Fordell Ball, bonnie dearie oh?
The last line of the chorus was generally changed to in-
clude a young lady's name instead of " bonnie dearie," and
among names remembered to this day are Annie Daly, Martha
Beveridge, Jeannie or Janet Livingstone.
Reading between the lines of that song one can under-
stand the method of invitation to the dance, which was
generally by word of mouth by the young man to a girl friend
several weeks before the night of the ball. A young miner
generally brought his sweetheart, but a young man not so
suited had to make his own selection and to get one of the
popular young ladies he had to ask early.
As the Fordell Ball was not strictly a partner dance but
more of a village festival, young ladies not honoured with a
formal approach for partnership that night used to go in
small numbers, in a manner unattached. Young men were
there, too, in numbers, who were also unattached and they
were saved the expense of a pair of dancing shoes — the
recognised present by a young man to his partner for the
night.
Of the ladies who went to the ball a few were employed
in linen factories in Dunfermline, and they travelled to their
work from Crossgates Station in a special factory train in
the morning, returning in the evening.
The largest number of young women were pithead girls
26 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
for, after all, it is a miners' holiday, and time of rejoicing
and thankfulness.
The ball was always a great success. It was one great
happy family, and with jigs, reels, waltzes, lancers, quadrilles,
polkas, " Flowers of Edinburgh," haymakers, etc., the time
sped on only too quickly. The dance was held in the middle
of July, and some young men had reached their third collar
before the end was in sight. The recognised time for stopping
was six o'clock, but often the fiddlers were busy as late as
eight o'clock.
The Fordell Ball has been but a memory for many years
now, but to-day many a one looks back with fond regret and
with loving remembrance to the pleasant nights spent at this
dance.
The famous song, " After the Ball," with its suggestion of
broken hearts and shattered romance, could not have been
written about the Fordell Ball, for the scenes, after the dancing
was finished, were always ones of gaiety and signs of deep-
rooted friendship.
CHAPTER VII.
The Paraud Sports
ALL had departed from the ballroom in time for
breakfast, but there was no thought of bed that day
for the revellers, for already the younger element of the fam-
ily were up and dressed, their one thought being how they
were going to fare at the Sports of the " Paraud," which had
entered upon their second day.
That day was specially set aside for the older folk and
the children. With one accord they made for The Fannies
where the sports were to be held. These sports, which were
made up principally of races for boys and girls, young women,
old men and women, always took place there. All the children
of the village were there and all were eager to run a race
of some sort. Whenever a certain number of children of a
certain age were collected together, a race took place. The
winners received coppers in prizes from a large bag and then
another race was made up.
When races galore had been run off and as many consol-
ation events had been added, until such time as no child
seemed to be without a prize, the young women, who had
been gathered together in groups in the background, would
come forward for their turn. This was a sign for encouraging
remarks from the young men in the vicinity, but they did not
seem to bother the competitors who seemed to be more inter-
ested in what start certain competitors were to get. A taller
one would remark that a certain other competitor might no'
be very tall but she was wee and soople and cood fairly rin.
One thing was certain and that was that each one was a trier
until she saw the race was hopeless, and she would resign
quite gracefully with a smile and a word of encouragement
from the young men that " she cood try next year when she
would be a year aulder." Then the old women came into their
own. With their skirts tied up to their waists they too were
real triers and ran as fast as their strength and their breath
would allow them. They did not get money prizes, but the
reward for their bravery and speed generally took the form of
parcels of sugar and tea.
The old men races always provided laughter, especially
28 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
the race for the oldest class, a race which had been discussed
shortly after the last paraud and would be the subject of
discussion until the next paraud. I can visualise with the aid
of memory, a very short man getting a start from a tall man,
amidst protestation from the taller competitor, who stood
with one hand on the head of the smaller one, the time he
was trying to impress the handicapper how guid the wee
man was. The ' David ' of the race, however, got his start
all right but it did not get him the prize for the much taller
competitor passed him at half track, when he seemed to step
over him as he passed. This started the discussion of what
happened the previous year when the smaller man used to
state afterwards and won by pure science. When asked
to explain the part that science played in the race, he used
to say that he was running that weel that he had to gie the
tall man a start. He sune got up to him, but the big man
swung his airms like flails and he cudna get past.
" But I sorted him," he said.
" H'oo? " was the inevitable question.
" I ran throo atween his legs."
As far as the prize was concerned, however, it did not
matter who won. The prizes were always in liquid shape,
bottles of whisky in sizes graded to suit the prizes. Not only
did the prize-winners go to collect the prizes, but they all
went and very often all the competitors went to a convenient
place not too far away to see " what kind o' stuff the Com-
mittee had got ' the ' year."
There is one word in the Fordell dialect I could never
understand and that was the word " the " when it was used
in the place of " this " as seen in the previous sentence.
CHAPTER VIII.
Spirit of the prizes
VERY often, in fact on nearly every occasion, the
competitors all belonged to a number of " cronies "
and one would say by way of invitation " Come on up by.
There's naebidy in and we'll hae quietness seein' the auld
wife and the bairns are at the sports."
When the prospective host has given the assurance that
he had as many " glesses as gaun roond," they all marched
off with their prizes, special care being taken that the prizes
do not come to any misfortune on the road. A daughter, who
has successfully thrown off the effects of the " ball " the
previous night, is at home tidying up but she is not too en-
thusiastic in her reception of her father's guests. She starts
off, " Oh, it's you and a' your cronies. It's a fine time to
come when ye ken my mither's no in."
" 'Deed lassie," says the youngest of the old men, " dinna
fash yersel aboot us. We'll be easy to pit up wi'. We're no'
seekin' tea; a' we want is a pickle glesses an' maybe a joog
o' water."
"So that's it. I see it noo, you've been runnin' the auld
men's race and you hiv the prizes there. I maun hae been
dovey no' tae hae kent that afore noo. Weel, f ether, if it's
glesses you're efter, I dinna ken whaur you are gaun tae get
them. You'll mind fine you folk broke gey near a' the glesses
we had in the hoose last paraud and, mair than that, you've
brocht it tae my mind you didna buy new yins for them as
you a' faithfully promised. There's only twa I ken o' in the
hoose and they are the yins my mitber brocht frae the ex-
hibition. If you brak them you'll ne'er hear the end o' my
mither's tongue. I'm shair I'm daft to lippen them wi' you.
The rest o' you will need to tak cups."
With this she departs and soon returns with the exhibition
glasses and three cups.
"I suppose you would be makin' a fule o' yirsel the
day again rinnin' at The Pannies in the auld men's race. It's
a guid job my mither is no here to hear aboot it or wisna
there to see you. She would be black affrontit."
This statement was received with loud laughter by all.
30 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
" Wed, and what are you laughin' at? I dinna see ony-
thing funny at a lot o' auld fules runnin' in their stockin'
soles and makin' general exhibitions o' themsels. Forbye, I
ken fine, and I never saw you, that you would a' hae your
jeckets aff and there's ma fether's dean shirt lyin' oan the
bed, and he wis telt a' the mornin' tae be shair an' pit it oan
afore he gaed tae the paraud sports."
" Wed the last we saw o' yir mithir was when she was
sprauchlin' on the grund claimin' that she was first in her
race and it was her that broke the cotton week."
" What dae you say? Do you no' think shame o' yersel,
fcther, allooin' ma mither tae dae ony sic thing as run a race
and her wi' they seeatic pains a' week? "
"I wudna bother ower muckle aboot that gin I were you,
Kate. If yir mither hisnae got the pun o' tea she has the
second prize onywey and, mair than that, I saw she cam' in
a guid lot in front o' the wife next door, and that'll mak' her
forget her seeatic pains for a wee while."
This must have brought about some pacification to Kate
for, turning round, she said:
" A' richt, fether, that's as muckle as I can dae tae redd up
the noo. There's the glesses and the cups and there's the cork-
screw. I'm awa' tae the toon but mind you, when I come back
and things are no' richt, I'll promise you a' somethin' . . . ."
" Dinna promise ower muckle, Kate," said Wull, " but
see and enjoy yirsel. Dinna keep Tarn oot ower late. He was
tellin' me he is to be on the pumps at the William the morn's
mornin' and ye ken that means a hauf-five rise."
After a last look at the mirror and " You're lookin' rale
braw the nicht " from Jimmy in the corner, she turned round
with her hand on the handle of the door and said very delib-
erately: " If ony o' you yins bother ma mither aboot her
fa'in', wed, look oot."
Before any reply could be made, Kate was gone and the
old cronies at once settled down to enjoy themselves with
their bottle and have a quiet crack.
There was silence for a while after the door was closed
until the host quietly drew the cork and soon was measuring
out each man's first share of the prize. The five glasses and
cups were then held up, after each one has waved aside the
water jug, and Wull said, " Wed weel, here's tae the next
year's paraud."
" Hear, hear," said the others. That was all before they
were testing the merits of the contents that came from a black
bottle that originally was intended to hold another brand.
SPIRIT OF THE PRIZES 31
" Here," said Tam, " what name is on that bottle. Does it
say Glen Devon? "
" It canna be that," said Wull, " Glen Devon is a water
works."
" Fine I ken that, but maybe it wud be mair appropriate
to ca' it Cullaloe. That's Burnteeland waterworks."
" Eh, luddie, the Burnteeland folk ne'er put a' that water
intilt. That's been the Paraud Committee makin' up ither
prizes for the year. They'll hae tae gie the Band Committee
a bigger fee the year as they are needin' anither new skin
for the big drum."
" I see it's gettin' gey sair patched," said Jimmy, " and
they canna jist gaun back tae the big hoose askin' for anither
skin for the drum, withoot haein' a better excaise than the
yin they made up last time."
CHAPTER IX.
The Markinch cabbage, the
cabbage pat and Jimmy's big tattie
>-t-i
I HE talk touched many topics before it finally centred
JL on the coming For dell Flower Show and the merits
or demerits of the different gardens. Wull joined in with, " I
see you've got some fine phloxes the year."
"Aye, they'll tak' some batin' this time, Wull. I just
thocht you went ben the hoose to get a guid look o' them
as weel as the blue violas you've haen sic a notion o'."
" Weel, luddie," said Jock, " if somebody's eddication had
been as guid as kennin' a' aboot flooers, you wud a' haen a
strong rival the year wi' your phloxes and your dahlias."
" Hoos that? " said Wull.
" Weel, I just happen tae ken that Wull was wantin' tae
send for some guid yins. He got the names o' them a' richt
that the gairdener gied him but he cudna spell dahlias or
antirrhiniums and neither him nor his auld wife was ony
further forrit efter raikin' the hoose upside doon tae try an'
get hud o' a catalogue that Wull pit by the year afore."
Wull strongly denied this. It was marigolds he was efter,
he said, and he didna ken whether there were two " r's " or
one. Forbye, he had as guid dahlias as onybody in Fordell
and he never got them frae " Dirthill " either, like some folk
he kent. " Aye, and just ae nicht afore the show at that."
Jock saw trouble arising so he broke in wivh " I see a
man in Markinch has an awfu' big cabbage."
" Fordell can grow as big a cabbage as ever grew in
Markinch," said Wull. " I'll back my cabbage against ony
Markinch cabbage. Markinch whiskey may swall a man's
heid, but it'll no' swall the heid o' a cabbage."
" That's naethin'. A big cabbage is neither here nor there.
I was up at the Grossgate foondry the ither day and Maister
Wilson was makin' a big washin' pat up there, an oot bye
job, it was that big. You and a big cabbage! This job wud
gie wark tae three men for a week ony way."
" But this cabbage," said Jock, not to be outspoken, " was
Rev. John Clark
Robbie Hardie
who played the big drum
in Fordell Band
AAv nvtA Af V c C-.
THE MARKINCH CABBAGE 33
that big that it'll tak' a ferm horse and cairt tae tak' it tae
the floor show."
" Weel, what aboot that? You will see this pat for yirsels
as it has been ordered to bile your Markinch cabbage in efter
the show is ower."
For a while the quartette laughed at Jock's expense, but
it did not disturb him, and with a " Weel, that deserves
anither dram," the black bottle was brought into service and
this time it was emptied.
" Weel, here's tae Jock's Markinch cabbage," said Wull.
" It was a thumper," said another, and Pete added quietly,
" I can see anither thumper comin'."
Jimmy disregarded the remarks and proceeded with the
story he was itching to tell.
" My grannie yist tae bide awa' in the country, and ae
day she had a ca' frae a man wha yist tae ken my grand-
farther awa' in foreign pairts," he began. " My grannie lat
oot that she had to depend on her gairden to keep the hoose
the gither, and afore he left he said that ae time my grand-
father had did him a guid turn and as a sort of peyin' back,
he promised he would send her a kind of manure that wud
mak' her vegetables grow to a fell size.
" We got a postcaird frae the railway company tellin' us
tae gang for a bag lyin' at the station. It wasna a big poke —
aboot fourteen pun or sae — and when I took it tae the
grannie's and opened it oot, I saw it was white mealy stuff,
somethin' between washin' soda and saut.
" My grannie went tae the dresser tae get the wee bit
paper the man had left wi' the instructions on hoo the stuff
should be yaised, but losh me, she had lost it and, waur still,
she cudna mind what the words were he telt her aboot what
tae dae with the stuff.
" Weel, when the time came to plant the gairden we were
in a fix what tae dae and hoo tae apply it. We were feared
we might spile the hale gairden if it was owre strong, so tae
mak' shair wark we wadna dae ower muckle wrang, I sug-
gested that for the time bein' we wud pit some roon a seed
tattie and if it was a' richt we wud pit mair roon the cabbage
and ither things as they were growin'.
" It was jist at that time I got word tae gaun throo tae
the wast to drive a stane mine through a hill. At least I was
tae bide there as lang as learn ithers there wha werna up
tae the kind o' wark on hoo it was dune. I was away for
a month or twa and by the time I got back I had forgotten
a' aboot the tattie until I went to see my grannie,
c
34 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
"I gaed tae her hoose and she wasna in, but there she
was in her gairden starin' at the tattie shaw. It was six feet
high and the ground was a' crackin' roond aboot it. I was
jist as dumbfoonert as she was and we decided, as it was still
in flooer, tae let it alane for a while. This was jist afore the
Simmer holidays and I gaed awa' tae spend them wi' an
uncle in the Hielands. The pits werena gaun ower weel at
the time and my uncle, wha was a fermer, asked me tae bide
a week or twa tae help him wi' his hervest.
" The first thing I did when I came back was tae rin
doon tae my grannie's. But when I got there it was vexing.
There she was greetin' in the gairden and a' that was left was
a muckle big hole like a faun-in pit shank and tattie shaws
a' ower the place.
" I didna ken what tae dae, but I was shair I wud get tae
the end o' that tattie tae ken whaur it went. I searched high
and low. I telt the police, but they were bate ana! Then ae
nicht, just in the mirk, I was gaein the grannie's dug a walk
when we wandered efter a rabbit into the middle o' a wud
and we cam' across an auld quarry. In that quarry a tink and
his family were bidin', but there was somethin' aufu' queer
aboot his hoose. Then a' at ' yince ' — (the cronies were too
enthralled to check him for saying ' yince ' instead of ' aince ')
I saw his hoose was a muckle tattie howked oot, wi' sugar
bags for a door, aye, even to the lum reekin."
Jimmy continued that he made the tink confess that he
had lifted the tattie ae dark nicht but he pleaded for the
sake o' his wife and bairns no' tae tell the police.
" Gies your glesses," said Tarn, " the second prize has got
tae be disposed o' yet. Jist divide the hauf bottle in five. We
need a gey stiff gless tae swally that thumper o' Jimmie's."
Soon all the company were standing and talking nearly
all at one time but the general agreement arrived at was that
that day's sports were even better than last year and they
were the best before that time. That opinion was accepted
by a short silence which annoyed Jimmy. He did not like
his story disposed of that way. He would have liked an argu-
ment but they remained speechless. This story had been too
much for them and at last, to break the uncomfortable silence,
he changed the subject by saying quietly, " I dinna think they
young lads are rinnin' as hard as they did when I was a
callan. I min' whan I was in America . . ." He got no further
for Wull said firmly, " Look here, Jimmy, the whisky is a'
dune and we canna staund ony mair o' yir stories withoot it,
and it'll need tae be less wattered than the stuff the nicht, so
THE MARKINCH CABBAGE 35
we'll jist wait for anither nicht tae hear aboot yir exploits in
America and hoo you broke a' the records there. You canna
hae been lang in America but I'm beginnin' tae think that
it was lang enough tae learn the Yankees hoo tae brag aboot
the great things they can dae there. If that's richt we maun
admit you made a grand job o't." "Here's tae next year's
Paraud," said Wull, and the cronies were soon making for
their respective homes, having spent a very enjoyable day,
but with the tattie story still uppermost in their mind.
CHAPTER X.
The Brass Band
ONE of Fordell's foremost institutions in bygone
days was the Brass Band, but I have been unable
to discover when it first began to function. According to my
old friend, Eck Penman, there was first of all a flute band,
but this was merely the foreunner of the Brass Band, destined
to become one of the most famous in the county of Fife.
One of tlie oldest members of the band is Davie Philip.
I recall Davie confiding in me that he was not born in Fordell
but at Cowdenbeath, and to prove his statement he showed
me his birth certificate, which bore out he was born at Dyke-
neuk on the 9th October, 1 862. I was puzzled to know where
Dykeneuk was at Cowdenbeath, for I pride myself that I
know every place in the district by name. Davie informed
me that Dykeneuk was the proper name of two houses, de-
molished recently, which stood at the end of Foulford Road
with the junction of Old Perth Road.
" But that was called Crosskeys," I said.
" Deed aye, laddie, but when I was born it was ca'd
Dykeneuk."
Davie told me that he was very young indeed when he
went with his father and mother to the farm of Bankhead
at Otterson, near Aberdour, and later came to reside in the
Moss Row at Fordell. Davie first saw Fordell Band at the
Paraud when he was seven years of age, and he never lost
touch with the band after this. He was thirteen years of age
when he got his instrument, and right proud he was.
At that time the conductor was " Twinny Rob " Beveridge,
who was also the cornet player of the band. Nowadays, a
full brass band consists of twenty players, twenty-four being
the regulation number for contest work, but with Fordell
Band twelve players made a big band and twenty-four " was
somethin' oot o' the ordinar."
The players were all notable musicians and in most in-
stances were relations. As stated, " Twinny Rob " was the
solo cornet player and conductor. The first conductor Davie
remembers was Willie Woods, an ex-soldier and well-known
brass band conductor, who took a great interest in the Fordell
THE BRASS BAND 37
I Sand. Not only was he a conductor but he wrote brass band
music.
Mr Woods had a son in the band, Willie Woods, a cornet
player, who could not read a word of music, yet he was a
marvellous player. All he required was to hear a piece played
once and he could play it right away.
Another comet player was Archie Thomson, whose father
80 years ago played the G trombone. Willie Sharp played a
trombone. He was a member of a well-known musical family
and his son, Robert Sharp, later residing in Crossgates, was
Parish Clerk at Aberdour. Then there were the Gibbs;
Geordie played the horn, Dick the B flat to bombardon, and
Frank the cornet. The Gibbs were the best known of Fordell
families, especially Geordie, who resided for many years
" ower the brig " at Cowdenbeath, a district that includes
any place beyond the railway bridge at the Old Station. In
that quarter many of his descendents still reside. Frank Gibb,
who also removed to Cowdenbeath, resided in East Park
Street. He was for several years a member of Cowdenbeath
Town Council, filling the position for a term as Hon.
Treasurer of the Burgh.
Peter was a big drummer, a position also held by Archie
Brown. Robert Hutton, scarcely known by any other name
than " Robbie Hardie," was side drummer at that time until
he got his heart's desire — the big drum. It always struck me
as peculiar to see a side drummer in a brass band, but Davie
Philip assured me that this was quite in order at the time.
Then we must not forget the Hopes, another Fordell
family name. There were several families of Hope who are
now scattered in the district and may be found in Mossgreen,
Cowdenbeath, Crossgates, and even in " foreign " places like
Dunfermline. Wull Hope played the euphonium and Tarn the
tenor trombone.
There was always a suspicion among certain people that
the Hopes were not real Fordell natives but that they origin-
ally belonged to Springhill, at Crossgates, beyond the line of
demarcation that marked the Fordell boundary.
The Hopes and their descendants maintain that was not
true and that they were originally Fordell inhabitants, as
much Fordell in their " bluid " as the " Berridges," aye, or
the Penmans either. " Forbye," they would say, " whaur did
the Berridges come frae onywey but Dirthill? "
These were some of the arguments used at the pay office
on Saturday night, as the Fordell Store, or at the " College,"
when big Tam Dryburgh would say " he could fecht all the
38 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
Hopes, Berridges and Penmans ane efter the ither wi' ae hand
tied ahint his back." But anyone from outside suggesting that
either the Hopes, Philips, McArthurs, Berridges, or Penmans,
were not originally natives of Fordell would have to deal with
a united front.
In the band there was one Beveridge eighty years ago
besides " Twinny Rob " and he was " Tom Bow," who also
played the cornet. His name was Thomas Beveridge, but for
the sake of identification amongst the clan of " Berridges "
he got an extra name — not a middle name, but one added —
Tarn Beveridge and then Bow as an afterthought, the same
as Beveridge (Grieve).
Davie Philip was a bandsman for thirty years. This was
not a record, for other players were in the band for that
length of time and in some instances longer. Willie Woods
was longer in the band that that, and if a Hope suggested he
was playing flat, he would retort that he could not be flat as
he had played in Fordell Band for ower thirty years and
longer than onybody else, Hopes and a', thus falling into the
trap laid for him to start a " freendly row."
CHAPTER XI.
Well known players
CONTINUING his reminiscences, Davie said that
Willie Duncan also played a bombardon and later
was a well-known cornet player. Tam Dobbie was a member
as well. That introduces the question of strangers in the band.
At one time Donibristle had a brass band. Of course it
never compared with Fordell Band. According to Tam Dry-
burgh " Fordell Band could blaw Dirthill Band ootside in."
The Donibristle Band fell on evil days and went out of
existence. Even Fordell folk, however, would admit that there
was an anterrin player in the band " guid enough tae tak'
his place alangside Fordell Band." One was Robert Seath,
who stayed in Earl's Row, and was for many years a shop-
keeper in the village o£ Donibristle and it was agreed to
honour him by allowing him to play for Fordell Band. That
was the real reason the Fordell folk gave their consent to
allow Seath in the band, but if anyone wanted a first-class
row all he had to say was that they took him to spite Cross-
gates.
The same reason was given by outside bands for Fordell
Band taking Tam Dobbie, a cornet player from Lochore,
who, in the days before buses or even bicycles, used to walk
from Lochore at least twice a week to attend practice. Later
Dobbie joined Bo'ness Band and one day he met him at
Kinross at the July Fair in charge of the Bo'ness Band.
While talking to his old bandmate, be took occasion to
admire his band trousers and found that they were ordinary
black moleskins with a moveable stripe down the side. This
struck me, he said, as a very convenient experiment as, with
the stripes off, the trousers made good working garments.
He had a great admiration for two men in Fordell Band
— Twinny Beveridge, the first man he knew who could triple-
tongue the cornet, and Tam Dobbie, who later went to Leven,
who also could perform, what seemed to him, this difficult
execution on the instrument.
In the Laird of Fordell the brass band had always a good
friend, and the gift of an instrument to replace an old one
40 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
was always a consideration. One Laird, George Henderson,
once gave them two instruments — a bombardon and a
euphonium. Then they had a hall free and were supplied
with light, the paraffin coming from the Company's stores at
the workshops.
They had practices on Monday and Wednesday of each
week and on Saturday afternoons, when not engaged, they
had a march out. The treasurer was always there on Satur-
day afternoon with his black book, for each member of the
band had to pay his shilling every pay day.
" I dinna ken hoo some o' us managed that shilling wi'
wages at three bob a day, but we just had tae pey it an' that
was a' aboot it. It's surprisin' whit ye can dae withoot if you
hivna the siller tae get it," he said, thinking of the past when
he and the other members of his family had " tae dae with-
oot " for the sake of the band.
" Our conductors never cost us very much," he added.
" Willie Woods used tae write his ain music, and Twinny
Rob was sae eager in his love o' the band that he never
thocht o' payment."
Another source of revenue was their many engagements.
" I have seen us," said Davie, " workin' only three days a
fortnicht and there was nae five day week and paid for six
shifts. We had a wheen paid engagements, and sometimes
we played and a' we got was a pie an' a pint. It seemed a'
games committees wanted Fordell Band an' we yist tae hae
lang trails. I've seen us at Leslie Games on Thursday, Mark-
inch Games on Friday, an' at the Paper Mills alang there on
the Seturday.
" We were aye engaged for the Miners' Gala an' went wi'
Fordell folk, except aince, when they hadna the siller tae pey
us, and we went a' the same. We got an engagement to mairch
alang wi' Cowdenbeath miners, hooever, an' we were weel
aff that day for we got nine shillings a man. That was lang
afore Cowdenbeath had a band o' their ain. Ither games we
attended were Ha'beath, Milnathort, July Fair at Kinross,
Pitlessie and Ceres."
" How did you manage to get to those far away places
like Ceres? " I asked.
"We went in brakes and waggonettes," Davie replied,
" an' we aye got name a' richt. Never the same day, of course,
but we aye got hame somehoo. We gaed to Guar'bridge
aince and had tae pey £4 for brakes. An' we didna get awa'
efter the games were feenished. No, the committee started us
tae play reels an' they collected the pennies— ye ken, reels wi'
WELL KNOWN PLAYERS 41
a penny from ilka dancer. We got hame a' richt — weel on i'
the next day.
" I mind aince o' the band gaun tae the Forth Brig when
it was gettin' built. The workers there had sports o' their ain
an' I tell you they were guid sports. They had beer in big
bath tubs an' each man had jist to gaun forrit an' help hissel
wi' a joog.
" Wha gaed us the brakes? Weel, there was Philip, Dun-
fermline — ye ken him that ran the bus twice a day frae
Dunfermline tae Lochgeliy. Ye cud set your watch by the
time Chairlie, the driver, passed through Crossgates in the
mornin'. Then auld Eck Campbell, o' Cowdenbeath, used tae
gie us a brake gey often, an' sometimes he forgot to ask
peyment. Then if we were stuck Erchie Hodge, o' Cowden-
beath, had twa waggonettes, an' I dinna ken hoo we peyed
him, we maist likely never.
" We yist tae mairch roon' the raws on Saturday nicht
an' I feenished up at the Fordell Store. Jimmy Hamilton had
the Store whan I mind o't first, and when playin' he yist
tae gie us oor first dram free. Syne we gied a reel or twa
in front o' the Store an' when we felt dry we jist gaed back
far anither yin. We didna chairge the pennies on they nichts
but I can tell ye they cam' frae a' awer tae thae reels.
" Us young yins that drank the lemonade aye looked
forrit tae thae nichts at Fordell Store. Efter the playin'
stopped till Jimmy Hamilton closed his shop at eleeven
o'clock we didna gang straucht hame for the lassies used tae
tak' tae the band lads."
" How did Fordell Band get the name of the Herring
Band? " I enquired.
" That happened afore I was in the Band," said Davie,
" so it must hae been a lang time ago. The way it happened,
as far as I was telt, was ae nicht the Band were comin' in
frae some ayont Cowdenbeath late at nicht, and some o'
them got a lift frae a herrin' cadger in his cairt. There hap-
pened tae be a box o' herrin' in the cairt and the band chaps
helped themselves tae the herrin' and hid them in the bells
o' their instruments. Ye can s&e hoo the chaps wi' the big
instruments got the maist herrin' but it took a lang time tae
get the stink o' the herrin' awa.
" I suppose, tae, ye'll hae heerd o' the Band bein' ca'd
the ' Drunken Sixteen.' Weel ye can tak' it frae me they didna
deserve that name. I dinna mind o' seein' ony player ower
drunk tae play, an' mair than that, they thocht ower muckle
o' their instruments tae get ower fu' so that they cudna tak'
42 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
care o' them. Giein' them that name looks like a Crossgates
or a Kelty Band trick for, mind ye, bandsmen werena ower
parteecular whit they said aboot ither bands, but they were
the best o' freens for a' that."
CHAPTER XII.
The Flooer Show
FORDELL has always been well known for its floral
beauty. Much of this fame is due to the great interest
taken in the gardens by the Lairds of Fordell Castle who
have been from generation to generation proprietors of the
colliery and the lands of Fordell.
The Lairds of Fordell were responsible for the prizes for
the best-kept gardens, introducing a competition that brought
into existence a strong rivalry, no doubt friendly, but a rivalry
that could not be keener. As near as I can remember, there
were about forty prizes in all and these prizes were respon-
sible for such garden displays that large numbers of visitors
from Crossgates, Donibristle and Cowdenbeath came to view
them on the Sunday following the judging.
With very few exceptions, all the gardens were entered
for competition and in such rows as Coles Terrace, Douglas
Cottages and the houses on the other side of the road that
led to Aberdour there were no such exceptions. They gener-
ally were where the facilities did not allow a well-kept garden.
I will try and picture Coles Terrace over sixty years ago.
In the end house was David Muir, whose descendants are to
be found all over West Fife. He nearly always won first prize
for his garden, helped to a larged extent by his son, Wattie
Muir, who became a newsagent in Bowhill. Next to Davie
Muir came John McArthur, another prominent prize-winner,
and then, in order, John Scott, Jamie Keddie, James Rolland,
Walter Muir, Thomas Beveridge and, lastly, Duncan McKay,
all keen competitors for the garden prizes.
Davie Muir, as I have stated, nearly always won the first
prize, but close on his heels came Michael Johnstone, in
Douglas Cottages, and Mrs. Stenhouse the blacksmith's wife,
in the first house past Lovers' Lone. Nancy was never far
down the prize-list.
The day of the judging of the gardens was a red letter
day in Fordell and the judges were closely watched, in some
cases quite openly, but, in a large number of cases, from
behind blinds and pot plants which decorated the front room
or the " ben " of the houses. The judges were Mr Ramsay
44 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
of Fordell Castle; the head gardener of Dhuloch, Inverkeith-
ing; and Mr William Cook of Donibristle. It was always a
fortnight before the flower show, which was always early
in September.
Willie Cook was a man one could not easily forget — very
tall, about six feet, but he was best known for his long red
beard. An authority on everything that pertained to a garden,
he was well known in the whole of West Fife. A miner by
occupation, he had no thought or time for anything else after
his work but gardening, and in nearly every flower show in
West Fife, and sometimes beyond it, Willie was to be seen
either judging or giving advice — always free. His own garden
in Donibristle was so large that it surprised one to know how
he could possibly find time to do anything else in his spare
time.
The three judges always arrived late in the afternoon and,
from a place of vantage where they could not be seen, inter-
ested family groups would gather and carefully watch them
and try to get an indication of how they were impressed with
the different gardens.
The presentation of the prizes was a memorable night in
the village. In the meantime, the prize-winners had goods to
the value of the prizes won and they were placed in the Old
School. There were no motor cars in these days, but the
private railway coach of Fordell House was brought into
use. This coach, not a Pullman car by any means, was at-
tached to the colliery engine, and the party, including Lady
Henderson, was brought to the village and, under the chair-
manship of Mr Morton, the prizes were presented by her
Ladyship.
The prizes were of all kinds. Davie Muir got his easy
chair and special congratulations on being the first prize-
winner. The others got their awards in turn. They ranged
from standing paraffin lamps and linen to boring graith and
drills. Lady Henderson had words of praise and encourage-
ment for each one and a special word to Nancy for continuing
among the leading prize-winners for keeping her garden so
attractive.
Immediately the judging of the gardens took place, every
intending competitor set his mind on the flower show. Show
boxes, frames and all the different contrivances for showing
flowers, etc., were unearthed. The committee arranged with
the colliery manager to get wood for the platforms and the
services of the colliery joiner to fix them up.
Competitors selected the different flowers and vegetables
THE FLOOER SHOW 45
they intended to compete with, and not only did they nurse
them with all the different ways of bringing them to their
best, but they set a night and day guard on them.
Despite careful vigilance, however, many prized flowers
and vegetables disappeared just previous to the show, and
a competitor had to be very sure of his convictions before he
could tell the committee that a flower or turnip on the stand
was his property, but had mysteriously disappeared from his
garden a night or two before.
I recall one occasion when a well-known competitor had
a beautiful red or pickle cabbage which he thought should
lift the prize in this class. He was afraid, however, that it
looked too tempting and as he and his sons were both on the
night shift he conceived the plan of inserting a safety pin in
the inner leaves of the cabbage. Coming home from work
one morning he found his cabbage had gone.
On the morning of the show he paid particular attention
to the red cabbage entered for competition; he recognised
his own when he saw it, and proved its identity beyond doubt
when he found the pin.
One of his sons told me he took the law into his own
hands and placed the cabbage below the stand, which meant
that it had been withdrawn from competition. Not long after-
wards another competitor came on the scene.
" Where is my red cabbage? " he asked.
" You mean oor red cabbage? "
" No, I mean the one I sent in."
" I ken. The wan we grew an' the wan you sent in is the
same cabbage. There it is alow the stand, an' it's gaun tae
bide there."
There was such determination in this latter statement that
the matter ended there and the cabbage was not shown.
" Why did you not report him to the committee? " I
asked.
" Ah, weel, the kennin' that he was fund oot an' that I
had this daur ower him, I thocht pit him aboot sair enough,"
was the reply. " Forbye, what guid wud that dae tae the flooer
show? Efter a', ye shud ken as weel as onybody that they
tricks were mair deevilment than onything else. I'm awfu'
gled that I copped him at it, no' for the sake o' the shillin'
o' a first prize or the vailey o' the cabbage, but ye ken hoo
I wud hae felt years efter tae hae the joke turned against
me."
The flower show was not confined to Fordell. Donibristle
folk were allowed to compete. The otherwise concrete rule
46 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
was not broken to oblige outsiders but to give the Fordell
folk a chance to prove that they grew better vegetables and
flowers than they could in Donibristle. It was a keen fight.
On the one side, we had the Muirs, Johnstones, Beveridges,
Penmans and Smarts from Fordell, out to beat the Harrow-
ers, Beveridges (" Dirthill " Beveridges), Forresters, Peter
Cook and the Robertsons from Donibristle. The rivalry did
not end there, but was taken to the Donibristle show as well,
and the show in Dunfermline or Cowdenbeath was regarded
as the decider.
CHAPTER XIII.
Fordell "Store
55
I CANNOT come across any person who can tell me the
age of Fordell Store, but from the appearance of the
building, of which the Store is a part, I venture to say that
it is one of the oldest buildings in the village. Moss Row,
now demolished, was probably the oldest. It was built to
accommodate the miners who were employed in the pits in
that locality. Then would follow the Old Square, a continu-
ation of the Store buildings, also demolished, and in front,
Cannon Row, which could boast of the only double storey
building in Fordell, with the exception of the Store. The
erection of these houses, or " miners' raws," brought about
the existence of the Store.
The only other buildings at that time would be the School
and Schoolhouse, the Auld Raw, in rear of the present Coles
Terrace, and two houses at the south end of Wemyss Square.
With the exception of the School and the Schoolhouse the
other houses are demolished. Since that time, Coles Terrace
(1850), Monteith Terrace and Douglas Cottages were erected,
and, in recent years, a few of the most modern of houses
have been erected on and built near the site of the Lang Raw.
There is no doubt that the Store buildings were erected
by the proprietors of the Fordell Coal Company and if the
Store was in existence in the early part of the nineteenth
century it was one of the many such Stores owned by pro-
prietors of collieries and other works all over the country
where goods were exchanged for lines supplied to the work-
men instead of wages and must therefore be one of few such
buildings.
My friend, Davie Philip, first remembers Fordell Store
when it belonged to Jimmy Hamilton, and at that time it was
a fully licensed public-house. From the size of the premises
today it could not have been a very large public-house, but
no doubt it was ample for the needs of the men in the
village who sought its comforts.
Its busiest time was, no doubt, on a Saturday when the
Brass Band used to halt there, after marching round the
" Raws," and play a programme of music. The programme
48 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
was always interrupted after the iirst tune when the men of
the Band accepted the invitation of Jimmy Hamilton to " hae
a drink on me." After the first " roond " the rest of the re-
freshments were always paid for, and no doubt Jimmy lost
nothing by his hospitality in " stannin' his hand " on the first
occasion.
Jimmy Hamilton left the Store and commenced a public
house at the Coaledge, always spoken of as " The College,"
on the Dunfermline-Kirkcaldy Road, just a short distance
from Coles Terrace. Messrs. Fraser & Carmichael rented
Fordell Store as a licensed grocer's, after Mr Anderson had
had it for a while as a butcher's shop. Robert Borthwick
(Robbie) was manager for Fraser & Carmichael for a time
and then followed John Finlayson, to be succeeded by Jimmy
Dick, now of D.C.I., at Dunfermline.
Following Mr Dick came the well-known Fred Stiven
who, during his long stay in Fordell, became very popular,
but never popular enough to take away the designation of
" incomer " even though he married " John Tamson's
dochter."
At the same time, Fordell folk never recognised John
Tamson, or, as he was better known, Fiddler John, as a
Fordell Wattie. John, they said, belonged to Crossgates, and
they never forgave him for his adverse criticism of Fordell
Band. They always said his opinions were the result of
jealousy and the fact that his son played in Crossgates Band.
They quote him as saying that " Crossgates Band withoot oor
John or Jimmy is a noise like a cat pirlin' in a tanker "
(tankard).
However, Fred became very well-known in Fordell and
knew the doings of the village to veriest detail. The source
of his information was Fordell Store. He thus could tell when
Twinny Berridge got a new " place " in the Lady Ann, when
Wattie Muir got a new lot o' pansies better marked than
Michael Johnstone's, when Willie Berridge got a new doo,
Mrs Japp a new cat, or the exact date after the Foresters'
ball that a well-known couple started to " gaun thegither."
Fordell men did not like the idea of the taking away of
the " sittin' doon " licence and they used to make the best of
the disadvantage by buying the beer by the gallon or half-
gallon at a time and drinking it on their " hunkers " at the
shop door or at a convenient place not far away, the tumblers
being supplied by the obliging Fred.
Objections were made at the men drinking in this way
and the result was that a police-sergeant came along one da}'
^jj+r"
■ \
.-»
77z£ Coa ledge Tavern
William Pit, last of the old Fordell Pits
to
r
FORDELL "STORE" 49
and gave out instructions that beer could only be supplied
in bottles. Fred immediately obeyed the instructions to the
letter, if not the spirit. He discovered that a "two-pound
sweetie bottle " held exactly a pint of beer, and his customers,
instead of getting their carrying out beer in a half-gallon or
gallon measure, got it supplied in " sweetie bottles."
If the law was not quite satisfied, the police instructions
were carried out, and so was the beer.
At the same time, there was a certain amount of pawky
and ironical humour in drinking beer from a bottle labelled
"Good Templar Drops."
The Store was always the busiest place in the otherwise
quiet village. This was especially so in the evenings and
nights when the lights of the oil lamps in the windows used
to bring round the youths of the " Raws." There the wives
used to meet, both inside and outside, and there the village
gossip used to be detailed and, in very many instances, added
to. There the boys and girls used to play at all sorts of
games, to be always quarrelled by Fred. To get their own
back, they used to indulge in some sort of game meant to
annoy him. For instance, one boy would get hold of another's
bonnet and throw it into the shop, leaving the victim with
the painful ordeal of going in for his cap or suffer the pen-
alties of going home without it.
Fred in later years used to say that I arranged to get my
cap flung in so that it fell on a barrel of apples and, rushing
for my cap, I used to take along with it at least one apple.
I never could convince Fred that I could not do such a thing.
He also told of how on one occasion he caught me and
chastised me in the back shop.
" Aye, an' yer faither came doon tae gie me a row for
hittin' ye, but when I telt him the richt wey, you was a vexed
laddie that yer faither kent onything aboot it."
The Store took the place of the local newspaper, and when
any bit of spicey news or news of any importance came in
from the outside, one heard the expression on every side,
" I'll need tae gaun tae the Store tae see if it's true."
Attached to the Store building on the side next the work-
shops and the Day Level Pit was a flag pole. The hoisting
of the flag during the day was to celebrate a village event,
but at night when that flag was sent up it was an intimation
to the miners that, for some reason, either the want of wag-
gons or a breakdown, that the " pit wasna workin' the morn."
Despite all the pranks that were played, Fred cannot
remember a time when this means of intimation that the pit
50 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
would not be working was abused, even after a " congenial "
night when a number of the miners would have relished a
" long lie " rather than tramping to the Lady Ann, half-a-mile
away, at " half-six " (the Fordell way of saying half -past five)
in the morning.
CHAPTER XIV.
The Fordell Watties
WHO were the original Fordell families? I have
been surprised during my inquiries to find that
many of the families whom I thought were natives of Fordell
were what they call " incomers."
Michael Johnstone, a well-known man who, for over sixty
years, took a prominent part in the doings of the village,
was never accepted as a Fordell man. Maggie Beveridge,
married to Thomas Beveridge (Grieve), also told me that she
did not belong to Fordell. She first came to the village when
she was married over fifty years ago and resided in the same
house in Coles Terrace for close on half a century. " Deed,
laddie," she said, " you better gaun tae some Fordell folk
for your information. I dinna belong tae Fordell, forby I
have only been here for fifty years."
When one remembers that the miners of Fordell got com-
plete emancipation from serfdom probably about 1799, after
which they were not reckoned as part of the colliery and its
plant, but had their freedom to go where they wanted, it
makes it difficult to trace the families in Fordell at that period.
The principal names are McArthur, Penman, Muir, Gibb,
Hope and Smart, while there may have been a family of
Japp. One of the last direct descendants of the Japp family
was Hannah. She, like many of the young women of Fordell,
in married life became a Beveridge. Mrs John Japp, a widow
who passed away lately, the oldest of her generation alive,
never considered herself a Fordell woman for, like Maggie
Wilson, she came to Fordell when she was married to John
Japp and was only there for approximately fifty years. Before
she passed away she was the oldest generation of five gener-
ations of the family all alive.
The father of the family which took a great part in Fordell
life was a Peter Penman, the most prominent member being
Peter Penman, who resided at No. 1 Monteith Terrace. Mr
and Mrs Penman had a large family, the eldest being Peter
Penman, who was ninety-four years of age and resided at
Brands Row, Crossgates. Like his father, he was Deacon of
Fordell Paraud on many occasions. One of his sons — Alex.
52 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
Penman — who resided at No. 1 Monteith Terrace, used to
tell of how his mother used to work in No. 12 Pit, now dis-
used and filled in. As all women were taken out of the pits
in 1842, one can easily understand that the family can be
safely stated to be a Fordell one.
They were a long-lived family, Aggie Penman passing
away a short time ago. Another member of the family was
Phemie Penman, who also became a member of the great
majority by marrying a Beveridge.
Davie Philip, who played in Fordell Band for many years,
whom I referred to before, was always classed as an
" incomer " although he resided in the village for over sixty
years.
Davie was fourteen years of age and was working for a
few years when one of the boilers at the William Pit exploded,
killing the engineman, Andrew Baxter Arnott, great-grand-
father of Mr A. Arnott, Cowdenbeath, and four of the pithead
girls or " hill women," as they were called. One was Davie's
sister, Isa Philip, another was Helen Cook, while the other
two girls were named Harrower and Paterson.
Mention of Davie Philip and his association with Fordell
Band recalls another of these " tall " stories connected with
that famous combination.
The Band had been playing at Lammas Fair and was
returning in the small hours of Sunday morning. Several
members of the Band had imbibed rather freely, and when
passing Mossgreen Church someone remembered a statement
made at Crossgates that the kirk " wasna built stracht."
The story goes that four bandsmen went to each of the
corners which they thought gave the kirk a " laich " (low)
side and started to raise the building. When they thought they
had raised it high enough one shouted " lower " and they
all let go.
However, one of the heavier men was standing on the
foot of a smaller man, who at once yelled out — " The hale
lot o' you come ower here. You've let this end doon on my
lit."
The story continues that they all lifted and " slewed " the
kirk to get his foot out, and now the kirk, besides being off
the level, is also off the straight.
After that diverting story let me return to Fordell's noted
men. Among these must not be forgotten Wattie Muir. Wattie
was of strong religious views and long before 1870, when the
Mossgreen School was erected, was in charge of the Sunday
School that met in the Reading Room in the Fordell Store
THE FORDELL WATTIES 53
buildings. He had the help of other voluntary teachers, in-
cluding Miss Graham, daughter of the minister at Crossgates.
Not only did Wattie Muir cater for the religious needs of
the young but he held services on Sunday evening in the
Reading Room for the older people, when the address was
given by the ministers and evangelists both in the vicinity
and from as far away as Edinburgh.
The Reading Room also recalls the name of Michael
Johnstone. Once a year there was a very important event in
the village — the Reading Room Supper. The chairman,
Michael Johnstone, always made the " boys," who included
men both old and young, feel at home. The expression often
heard today — " Weel, lads, I'll no' ca' you gentlemen as I
ken you too weel," has been attributed to Michael one dinner
night.
CHAPTER XV.
"Paddy" Clark and the "Berridges
95
^ n ^
I HERE were other outstanding characters in the
JL village of whom mention should be made, among
them John Japp, who always rode the white horse on the
day of the Forester' Walk and was the " heid " man at the
sports that followed, and the Rev. John Clark of Mossgreen
Church. The minister was better known, and no less respected,
by the name of " Paddy Clark," and did a great deal of good
work in the village.
Mr Clark always made his visitation a matter of special
enjoyment. He liked nothing better than to get among older
men and discuss current events and especially politics.
I always remember one particular Saturday Mr Clark
came into my father's house shortly after dinner time. My
mother had to leave a little afterwards to go to Dunfermline
for the week's provisions, but before she left, Mr Clark and
my father, an ardent Home Ruler, had started on the pros
and cons of Home Rule for Ireland, the work of William
Ewart Gladstone. I was an interested listener, for the North
Ireland brogue of Mr Clark sounded pleasant to me and,
like my father, I was an admirer of Gladstone.
Before leaving, my mother gave instructions not to let
the fire out, to be sure and light the lamp when it got dark
and be sure to draw the blinds. I left an hour later.
The discussion and arguments waxed hot, and when my
mother returned six hours later the two were in darkness,
cowering round the last red ashes of the fire. Neither seemed
to want to leave the scene of the interesting discussion long
enough to go to the coal-house to keep the fire in. My father
said in excuse, as he was the principal culprit, that he did
not notice the fire going out, and Mr Clark said he enjoyed
talking with the only light the glow of the dying embers.
Mr Clark was in great demand as a lecturer. He gave
lectures frequently in the Reading Room and went out to
different places, including Cowdenbeath, Dunfermline,
Crossgates, etc. He scarcely ever travelled in a train, and
on many occasions I have seen him leave Cowdenbeath at
" PADDY " CLARK AND THE " BERRIDGES " 55
ten o'clock at night, at the conclusion of his lecture, to walk
the three miles back to Mossgreen Manse.
I must include in my list of FordelFs outstanding men
the Beveridges. The truth is I do not know where to start.
They were here, there and everywhere, and so many had
the same name that the difficulty would be to be explicit
enough to indicate the particular one to whom I was
referring.
The Beveridges belonged to Fordell, but some folk were
wont to say that Fordell belonged to the Beveridges. On
one occasion, there had been complaints against some of the
Fordell inhabitants who had to report to the Laird of
Fordell. When he asked their names all he got was
" Beveridge," until he cried out, " Are they all Beveridges
in Fordell? We will have to get a new clan introduced there,
somebody with a name like McTacket."
CHAPTER XVI.
Schule days and the Dominie
IN these days of advanced education, when every child
is given the opportunity to be educated beyond the stage
of the three R's, it is very difficult to understand the real posi-
tion of higher education that faced Mr Currie. If there were
bursaries, I never heard of them for the Fordell children,
and, after the sixth standard, the next stage was Dunfermline
High School. The expenses caused by sending a pupil to
Dunfermline, providing school books (as this was long before
the days of " free " books), was entirely beyond the means
of the Fordell miner. The average wage of the miner at that
time did not exceed a pound a week, which provided for
only the bare necessities of life, but, despite this, Mr Currie
succeeded in finding the ways and means of starting quite a
few on the road for higher education. How he did it I could
never understand, I could only guess. If my guessing was
correct, it gave me a bigger problem, namely, to know how
the then small salaries of headmasters could afford to help
financially, and how he got the extra necessary to carry on
the good work. Still, he did manage to get a few through the
High School, and some the University, to become pro-
fessional men, and some to " wag their pow in a pulpit."
As can be imagined, these were only a few, but he was very
proud of them.
In those days, a boy or girl could leave school on leaving
the fifth standard and the big majority did this through
necessity. Miners almost invariably had large families and
the boy or girl, on passing the fifth standard, had to go to
work to eke out the family income. For the boys there was
the coal mine and for the girls the pithead and, in some
cases, the linen factories in Dunfermline. In both cases the
wages were very small and they only provided what was
necessary to keep the house going and nothing for luxuries.
Even the temptation of a watch, by Lady Henderson, to
every pupil who passed the sixth standard had to be turned
down to get the benefit of a shilling a day (the wages paid
to the boys and girls when they became part of the mining
industry). The leaving school at this age was looked upon
SCHULE DAYS AND THE DOMINIE 57
as a natural stage in the lives of the Fordell boys and girls,
just following on what their parents had done before them
for generations. Other few exceptions were the boys and
girls who had older brothers who were working and these
formed the sixth standard pupils and, from these were taken
the apprentice clerks and apprentice shopkeepers in such
places as Crossgates, but the demand was so small that
nearly all the boys and girls had no alternative to the work
about the mines.
CHAPTER XVII.
Schule leaving
CONTINUATION classes were not known till later
years and then they were fee-paying and the aver-
age ambition of the boys was to become a " drawer " in the
pit and later to become a worker at the coal face to get the
full wages of a miner.
For the girls there was even less to look forward
to in employment To become a pithead girl was to remain
one until the day she was married and then settle down in
the village as those before her had done. She never doubted
for a moment the possibility of her marriage. That was ac-
cepted, not with an optimism as many do, but as a reality.
In this she had every encouragement from the lives of all
the girls in the village who had gone before her. There was
never an old maid in the village. One reason, and the main
one, is that a young miner never looked upon the future in
any other way than that when the time came he would be
married. After a few years in the mines he got work at the
" face," generally under the supervision of his father, who
trained him in the art of " howking " coal, on roof support
for his safety, and the firing of explosives to loosen the coal.
After that, he looked out for a " place o' his ain " when he
would be allocated a small part of the coal " face " in one
of the coal seams to produce the coal. These were all places
where the miner's pick was his principal tool. This was long
before the days of the coal-cutting machine. The coal was
first of all loosened by " blasting " as in a quarry. Holes
were driven by a boring machine when drills were used of
various lengths, and explosives of various types were used.
The coal thus loosened was filled into hutches and the rest
was " freed " by the pick.
It was only after a young miner had been a " drawer "
for some time, when he took the loaded hutches to a point
where a pony took a " raik " (a load of hutches) to the pit
bottom, that he was promoted to be a " filler " of hutches.
To separate the big pieces of coal from the dross he used
a ribbed shovel, known as a harp. In due course there was
as much dross as fill a hutch. This harp or " daft man's
SCHULE LEAVING 59
shovel " as it was often called, was intensely hated by the
miners as it meant that the small coal had to be shovelled
twice and payment for it was very much less than round
coal. It was when working as a filler he served his appren-
ticeship as a miner, when he was taught the important things
in " face " working, how to get the coal and, most important,
his own safety and the safety of others. In such work he was
generally working under his father who, when he thought
that his son's education had been completed, gave the man-
ager a guarantee that the young miner could safely be
trusted with a " place o' his ain." He was then given a ton-
nage rate of wages from which he had to pay Ms filler and
drawer. When he got that, his marriage followed soon after-
wards on the promise by the manager that he " wud get
the first empty hoose."
CHAPTER XVIII.
Coortin' days
DURING this time he had been courting and his
progress in his work and the getting of the house
determined the date of the wedding.
The courting started generally very early in life, as
marriages at Fordell took place when the couples were about
twenty years of age. When it did start neither he nor she
could put a date. If they both belonged to the village, the
couple, in all probability, were in the same class at the
" schule " and walked together up the lane from Coles Ter-
race, past the old Bulwark Pit and pond. They may have
found work at the same pit, she on the pithead and he, first
of all, on the surface, playing the same pranks until he
got a job " alow " ground. The asking to " tak " her to
Fordell Ball would probably set a date when the village
looked upon them as " lad and lass." From that stage every-
thing was taken for granted. Certain nights in the week were
set aside for the " coorting " and these nights were recog-
nised, not only by the couple, but by companions and parents
as well, and no household duties were imposed on the young
lady on these nights.
The actual courting was a very solemn occasion. It con-
sisted, when the weather was suitable, of a walk on the
" Eberdour " road or on the railway line to the Lady Ann
and the William Pits, even though they were only traversing
the same road as they took to their work during the day.
If the weather was favourable they would sit on a fallen
tree or a bank off the road and stay there until darkness
crept on. Conversation was never a strong point and if silence
can always be looked upon as golden their courtship must
have been bliss. One reason of their lack of conversation
was the limited subjects they could converse on because of
the limited activities in social life in the village. Family
affairs, which included nearly all the village, were touched
upon lightly and even discussing future and past events,
such as the Paraud, only brought mono syllables in reply.
At last, as if the thought had struck both simultaneously,
they would both rise for their return home when silence
COORTIN' DAYS 61
would again prevail. During the evening it could be fairly
stated that there was no declaration of affection, for that was
safely taken for granted, even when the walk was finished
and the couple were finishing their courting for the night
between the outside and inside -doors of the girl's home,
when there was a deeper silence than ever that was broken
occasionally by a cough or other such warning by the father
that he was coming out to have his last look round and his
last " draw of the pipe," or from the mother that she was
coming out to take in the washing.
The exception was, of course, when the young man was
on the " back shift " or " night shift, ' which did not occur
very often. If the courting had been going on for some
time, she generally stayed at home when she helped her
mother or she attended to the " bottom drawer," which may
have been a trunk, of course, into which she stowed away
articles of clothing she made often with the help of her
mother, as part of her " providing." This was composed
mostly of linen which was stored away with complete confi-
dence that it was not placed there in vain or that the bride-
groom would be any other person than her " lad." The
progress , of the bottom drawer "providing" was very often
an indication of the date of the wedding, determined finally
by his progress at his work.
The courting proceeded on the same quiet lines of con-
fidence between the happy pair who did not expect the
parting kiss, not even after they were engaged. In fact, the
proposal never entered into courtship. If a miner's wife was
asked when her man proposed to her, she would laugh at
the idea and say, "Losh, Wull never proposed tae me. I
kent fine efter the Forrester's Ball that I was gettin' him and
he was as shair that he was gettin' me, and, mair than that,
the hale o' Fordell was ' every bit as wise.' Whan he got
a ' place ' in the Lady Ann he telt me that there was a hoose
for him in Monteith Terrace and it was time to arrange for
the ' waddin' ' and that was a' that was tae it." This latest
development of the " coorting " of Wull and Jean, though
never doubted by all those who had watched its growth,
provided an added thrill to the village and something extra
for the girls at their work, the wives at the " wall " when
they met to draw water and discuss the latest news and
rumours, and marked the time when the whole village took
a keener interest in the happy couple and the approaching
" waddin'."
Wull's position in the home of the forthcoming bride
62 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
takes on a new footing. He is at once accepted, not now as
Jean's " lad," but an immediate relation. He is given the
" run o' the hoose " and only on occasions, when the couple
want to discuss private affairs, do they adjourn " ben " the
hoose. The " but " was the kitchen where the family dined
and where the father and mother slept along with the very
youngest of the family. The " ben " was classified as the
" best " room and there slept the older members of the
family which, during the day, was only used for special
occasions. Occasionally, during the " coorting " in its last
stages, the couple had that room to themselves on a wet
night, but now all that has changed, and the forthcoming
relation to the family becomes on very intimate terms with
all the members and told " mak' yirsel at hame Wull." He
gets information about the relatives, most of which he has
known before, and anecdotes are told about the pranks and
doings of the parents on both sides when they were lad and
lass.
Wull is told " tae be shair tae bring alang his fether an'
niither tae their tea," and Wull makes a promise that they
will be " shair tae came." The date of the wedding is the
first important item and this is intimated by the bride, gen-
erally to suit the New Year holiday or the summer holiday,
so that the couple can have a honeymoon of two days,
generally with one of her relations in one of the larger
towns. When this is not possible day trips are arranged ac-
cording to the time of the year, a town at New Year time or
a holiday resort in the summer.
CHAPTER XIX.
A Fordell waddin'
AS one can readily understand a Fordell wedding
was not a private affair confined to members of
each family, but it was a village function.
The first thing to be discussed was whether or not it was
to be a " peyin' waddin'." This used to be almost unanimous
many years ago when the Auld Schule, which later became
the Band Hall, was taken for the occasion, as, being a vil-
lage of one happy family, the difficulty was in knowing
whom to invite and whom to leave out. There being no
other hall or suitable building big enough for the occasion
the Auld Schule solved the problem. Another problem was
how to provide a marriage feast for such a large crowd and
with the fund at the disposal of the bride's parents that was
only solved by making a charge for admission, usually five
shillings, or, as was more convenient, ten shillings a couple.
Two male friends of the happy couple took the money at
the door and guests had the satisfaction of knowing that
they were not piling up a debt on the bride's parents that
would take years to liquidate. In later years, however, over
sixty years ago, there was a tendency for a change when
there were a few instances of " private " weddings. In these
instances, there was very little change in the proceedings,
one being that the guests were invited formally instead of
inviting themselves. It was absolutely necessary when the
Auld Schule was not available and no house in a miners'
row could accommodate all those who wanted to be present,
a state of affairs easily understood when the whole village
was like one large family and inter-married to a very large
extent. For instance it would take more than one house to
accommodate all the Penmans and Beveridges.
With a " peyin' " wedding all difficulties about accom-
modation was solved, as the Auld Schule had room for over
a hundred guests, and domestic arrangements were not upset
in any way. There were two long tables in the hall with a
table at the top of the hall for members of the wedding
party who were taken there in the " cab." The others walked
and were given their positions as they entered the hall. The
64 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
last to arrive were the bride and best maid to find the groom,
the best man and minister waiting. Their approach was her-
alded by a yelling crowd of youngsters with "here's the
cab " and the guests took their places to form passage
through which the bride and maid walked to the strains of
a piano or melodeon. The minister, almost invariably Mr
Clark of Mossgreen, soon put the wedding party at their ease,
especially the 'groom, who said and did " as directed."
After the formal signing of names, the bride and 'groom
marched up and down between the tables with the seated
guests and received the congratulations of the entire com-
pany, not entirely enjoyed thoroughly by the 'groom as he
was the victim of all kinds of banter from his pals. Then
followed the toast to the bride and 'groom by the minister,
to which the bridegroom replied after shouts of encourage-
ment from his pals. This was done in a few words, as he had
forgotten in his excitement the phrases he had been learning
from memory and he then had his laugh at the predicament
of the best man when replying for the best maid. Then the
servers came on the scene and the best man, divesting him-
self of his coat, attacked a big steak pie as he asked all
present who wanted pie to hold up their hands. Two other
large pies came on the scene and soon all the company were
enjoying themselves to the " full."
Previously two sections of the village had participated
in the rejoicing. They were the children who participated
in the " skoorie " of coppers thrown amongst them at the
door by the best man before the wedding actually took place,
but after the knot had been tied he would go to the door
where he knew were a number of young and old men who
wanted to drink the health of the happy couple and he
handed out either one or two bottles of whisky. Very often,
in their eagerness to participate they forgot the toast, but
the neglect is unnoticed.
After the repast, the company occupied the seats round
the hall, the tables were cleared of the crockery, the floor was
swept and the night's programme started with the grand
march, headed by the newly-weds. There was never any lack
of music, as, besides the piano brought in, this was the band
hall, musical instruments of all kinds were at hand and very
often the players were there too. As well as the usual square
dances and the popular waltz, there were games for the
children and the young men and women. During the resting
periods, the vocalists, who were well-known to the audience,
sang and whether or not the songs were appropriate to the
A FORDELL WADDIN' 65
occasion they were loudly cheered. Amongst the oldest of
the guests were to be found singers of old-time songs, mostly
in dialect, and they did not escape, although they didn't try
hard, and such songs as " Robin Tamson's Smiddy," which
starts as follows, were to be heard:
My mither merit ma auld breeks,
And, oh! but they were duddy, oh,
And sent me get the mare shod
At Robin Tamson's Smiddy, oh.
So the fun went on till well on in the morning. The moth-
ers of the happy couple used the night to get better acquainted
and the history of each family was discussed in the most
minute detail.
With the excuse of taking some of the " good things "
at the wedding to some invited guests who, for some reason,
could not come, the bride and bridegroom left the hall
with a cheery send-off from the guests, who cried out all kinds
of advice, divided between the bride and bridegroom.
CHAPTER XX.
A private waddin'
NOW and again there was a private wedding and
it was favoured because of family details. Maybe
the bride was a " stranger " to the village. Oh yes, occasion-
ally such a person came into the lives of the Fordell Watties.
There was the case of Maggie Wilson, born in Kelty, who
came to the village to be the bride of a Beveridge and al-
though she remained there all the rest of her long life of
nearly eighty years she remained a " strainger." Then there
was the case of Jenny Arnott who came from Crossgates
when a " bairn." Her family settled down there and she
married Johnnie Smairt and stayed altogether nearly seventy
years, bringing up a large family. At her golden wedding
she confessed to me she was " aye a strainger in Fordell "
and never accepted as a native.
When a private wedding took place it was for some
personal reason and took place in the home of the bride.
No doubt the statement that a wedding took place in a " but
and ben " will cause some surprise, but a very important
feature must not be left out, the " hoose next door." Without
the house next door and, with luck, if there were one on
either side, many of these weddings could never have taken
place. " Guid neebors " was the rule almost without excep-
tion in the village, which will have been generally understood
by this time. The door of one was always open to members
of the family next door, another strong evidence of the happy
family village. In cases of trouble, sickness or accident, a
sympathetic neighbour was a friend indeed, and it was to
her the afflicted one went for sympathy and assistance in
the full knowledge that she would not be denied. Should a
mother be sick, the neebors would combine to relieve her
of all domestic duties. They would send in a daughter or
would go themselves or " tidy up the hoose," make the meals
and attend to the general comforts of all the members of the
family. In time of sickness, worry and even mourning, she
also mourned and was a great comfort in affliction, her
kindly words and tactful disposition providing a means of
relief to the bereaved.
A PRIVATE WADDIN' 67
In time of rejoicing, such as a wedding, the same spirit
was manifest and everything was placed at the. disposal of
(he bride's father and mother including the furniture, the
crockery and accommodation. From the bride's house was
laken all the superflous furniture for the occasion and stored
lor the night with a " neebor " who supplied all the chairs,
plates, and cutlery required for the large gathering. The
" but and ben " were both laid as dining rooms and round
i he walls were the chairs or, if available, forms from the
Sunday School which was again the Auld Schule.
In the case of Wull and Jean, a private wedding was
decided upon and at once arrangements were made. The
list of invitations was made out with a great deal of diffi-
culty as accommodation was limited and relations must
have preference. It was a simple matter to know where the
word relations could be applied but where to stop was a
more difficult problem and it was generally understood that
the list was subject to alterations.
For a month before the event presents came along, but
a night, two days before the ceremony, was set aside for the
exhibition of the gifts, when tea was handed round. In
Fordell in the selection of wedding presents Shakespear's
advice was generally taken when the presents were neither
" rich nor gaudy " but usefulness was the one thing in the
minds of the givers. Two nights before the event the bride
and her mother looked after the invitations which were
neither printed nor posted. The two started out and made a
round of calls to give personal invitations. They started with
a plan of a route and followed it, with so long at each house
a time-table that was never kept.
If the bridesmaid was available she accompanied the
couple, and passing by the door on either side, as they know
they could not be done without, called at the first house on
I heir list.
When they got inside, the mother imparts the news that
l hey were giving out "biddings" to Jean's waddin'. If the
inmates were not relations the reply was generally that they
were surprised at getting a " bidding " as there were plenty
" o' their ain folk to fill the hoose " but if there was room
" they wud be pleased tae be there."
" Weel, that's settled, and the cab will ca' for you."
" Dinna fash wi' a cab for us, we can easy walk there "
is brushed aside with the remark " We're haein' a cab and
(here is nae need tae walk."
The talk conveniently turned to wedding presents and a
68 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
daughter announced that she had laid by a pair of sheets
as she worked in a Linen Factory in the toon and she would
bring them along some night. She was thanked for the in-
formation and the bride took a mental note which was very
necessary to avoid duplication. The mother in the house
suggested that she give the couple a washing tub, and a
scrubbing board, and the reply was " that will come in very
handy." This information was also carefully noted and the
visitors left for another home and by this time the news had
proceeded them and a somewhat similar scene followed. In
one house the man said " he'll no' see them stuck for their
first cairt o' coal," while on a few occasions an invited guest
gives the information that he was " weel acquant " with a
fermer that had real guid dung and " he wud see that he'll
drap a cairt load on the wey tae the Alice tae get a cairt o'
coal." Only Fordell Watties realised that this last wedding
present was not so ridiculous as it will strike outsiders today
or even sixty years ago, as the " gairden " took the foremost
place in the life of the village and instances, where a name
was common, such as Beveridge or Penman, a particular
man was often recognised by his reputation in the growing
of a certain flower or vegetable, such as " Pansy Wullie."
This was a variation of the habit of adding a letter to the
name for identification as Beveridge A, Beveridge B, and
so on.
Gradually this visitation came to an end and when that
time came a careful study is made of the chance of anyone
having been forgotten and, if so, that was at once remedied.
There was never any question of the supply of music, as
more than one fiddler either volunteered or was pledged to
come, through his parents. Generally there are two, one to
relieve the other.
" Whan are you gettin' the key o' the hoose? " was the
question that started an arrangement of the bride's com-
panions to start cleaning operations. This generally took
two days before the wedding and the last night finished with
" trying " the floor with dancing. The men folk were well
warned to be " shair and wipe your feet." The curtains for
the windows appeared as if by magic and pictures appeared
on the walls, very often Willie Gladstone and Burns and
Highland Mary, the favourite statesman and poet.
Early next morning, all were busy in the bride's house.
The larger pieces of furniture were taken into the houses
next door and the tables were laid with the necessary crock-
ery. The arrival of a cab started the activity as it brought
A PRIVATE WADDIN' 69
in its train of all the youngsters in the village. There was a
special cheer for the minister, Mr Clark, as this was the
intimation that the last guest had arrived. Soon the bride
and best maid entered the building from the front door of
a house next door, by way of the garden, quite unnoticed,
into the front room, and when the 'groom and best man took
their places in front of the minister, they walked into the
room to the strains of the Wedding March, and general
admiration of the bonnie bride. Before this stage the minister
had made certain the necessary papers were at hand without
which the marriage could not proceed. Mr Clark, more
affectionately known as " Paddy Clark " to his knowledge
and silent approval, soon made the party feel at ease. The
bridegroom felt his hands in the way, but the best man used
one to feel his waistcoat pocket to assure himself that the
wedding ring was there when wanted and the service started
with the famous Wedding March.
There is little difference in the ceremony from a " peyin' "
wedding, with the exception that it was more of a family
affair, especially in the procession of the happy couple among
the uncles and aunts, cousins and nephews, and the greetings
were more intimate. The various toasts were proposed and
the bridegroom and best man felt greatly relieved when they
had said their little prepared speech which, though learned
to memory, was never recited as written and practised. Mr
Clark was in his element, for he was a well-known humorist,
and the fun was increased by his loud laughter at his own
jokes. A slight noise at the door was the announcement that
the pies had arrived and a little later they were brought in,
to the relief of the various helpers. There were two, one
going to the top table and the other to the other table. The
best man attended to the first, having previously taken off
his coat, and he was asking what each guest wanted, from
pie to roast beef and chicken, but out of that pie came all
the fare, the excuse for the absence of the chicken being
that the hen promised had got better. There was no standing
on ceremony an " that's richt Tarn, hae your usual " an-
nounced that one of the guests was having his usual second
helping.
By this time, the bairns have had their " skoorie " of
pennies and the usual bottle of whisky had been handed
out and soon, with one accord, the tables were dismantled
and the guests took places round the kitchen or " but." Then
came the Grand March and there were two dances before
the older men in the company discovered that the room was
70 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
getting uncomfortably warm and they went outside to get a
smoke.
" What's a' your hurry for a smoke," says the wife of
one. " Mrs Hamilton disna pit you oot afore ten o'clock.
What's wrang wi' giein' us a song afore you gann up the hill."
A compromise was arranged when Jimmy agreed to sing
" Afton Water " and wi' Liza to sing " The Crookit Bawbee."
When this was over they again made for the door. A slight
halt was made when one of the men was advised, if they
were gaun for a smoke, he'd better tak' his pipe that he left
on the mantelpiece next door.
When they had gone, dancing was started in real earnest,
generally Quadrilles and some of the popular country dances.
Liquid refreshments were served at intervals and when the
old men returned they were greeted with, " Has Mrs Hamil-
ton turned you oot and is it tea you're efter? " They admitted
to the second impeachment, but not the first, although they
also admitted that, being lag Friday, they got landed amang
a lot o' their cronies.
A very few of the dances satisfied the older women who
then adjourned " ben " the room for a claver on the current
village topics and hint at forthcoming weddings. Refresh-
ments from a black bottle were introduced but very few
indulge. Care had to be taken not to take one refusal as
being definite for all night, as this might give offence on the
grounds of " I ken I said no last time, but I dinna like tae
be mislipped and aye like tae get the offer." About three
o'clock in the morning the bride and bridegroom departed
with cakes, etc., to take to old relations who could not be
present but who expected to get the chance of wishing the
happy couple all the best in their married life.
The company know that this was the last they would see
of the couple and when they had gone there were quiet smiles
all round at the prospect of the success of their tricks of
putting holly leaves in their bed. The company gradually
disappeared, leaving the courting couples a while to them-
selves atween the doors, or the older men haein' a last drink
or deoch and doris, and shairing it with some of the miners
making their way to the Lady Ann or the William Pits. The
young mm and women at the wedding would not go to their
beds.
For a snell my thoughts lingered on the scene as the
various guests made their way home. No street lighting
guided their way on roads flattered by the name of street,
a shaded window light of some house where someone was
A PRIVATE WADD1N' 71
dressing to go to work showing up a few of the many puddles
or crudely-made " shuch " or gutter. There was a sudden
quietness after the cheery " guid nichts " as they departed
from the scene of merriment and in some quiet corner
another romance was either being started, strengthend, or
had brought the wedding " crys " or a wedding to some
fixed date. Such warnings as " Mind, folk are in their beds "
quietened the younger ones and the very youngest were
generally asleep and were being carried home by the parents.
The homeward march was always accompanied by a discreet
quiet that was a credit to the village, following the rather
boisterous but good-natured hilarity. There was no evidence
of the visits to Mrs Hamilton or the effects of the " health
to the song " a short time previous. At the scene of the
festivities there was a last cup of tea for those who had to
set to and clean up and restore the house and the next door
one to their usual and the " forms " taken back to the Band
Hall.
While recalling this scene I am reminded of a scene that
took place at such a wedding when just before the party
were " scaling," one of the guests, who had come from
Lochee, said that there was something he thought he was in
honour bound to say. When some of his friends in Lochee
had got to learn he was going to a miners' wedding in Fife
he was advised to prepare himself for the occasion which
would certainly arise, and he produced from a coat pocket
some sticking plaster and a bottle of linament which, he was
told, he would find a use for. He would take back these
articles and would have the pleasure of saying that they
were not required.
CHAPTER XXI.
The Readin' Room Denner
SUCH was a Fordell wedding, one of the few social
events of the village. The others were the annual
Paraud, the Forresters' Picnic and Sports, the Sunday School
Picnic during the summer months, and Fordell Ball and
Reading Room "Denner" in the winter.
The last mentioned was a purely male affair and was
eagerly looked forward to. Michael Johnstone was the chair-
man for many years and nearly everyone present took part
in the programme. Tke big pies from Baker Wilson in Cross-
gates were looked forward to with eager anticipation and
" Tarn," one of the young men who never was heard to
whisper, was often said to be on a starvation diet for two
days previous in order to be able to take full advantage of
the " denner." However, he never carried out his boast of
being able to eat a " hale " pie and start on another, and
he just settled down to a thorough enjoyment of the pro-
ceedings. There was never a scarcity of singers and musical
instruments and the oldest members, while they thoroughly
enjoyed themselves, also gave entertainment to the others
with the rendering of their old time favourite songs, the
choruses of which were heard a long distance away. In the
early morning pranks were played. As it was held generally
on a " lag " Friday, with no work next day, the proceedings
lasted well on in the morning and then the pranks were
started. The bell on the colliery stables, taken from a battle-
ship commanded by one of the early Lairds associated with
the colliery, looked upon as the " toon clock," would ring
out vigorously, but no one complained, not even the manager
in Anson Hill.
One of the best stories about the village is associated
with a Reading Room Denner and has gained a national
reputation.
In Fordell village there was a Hearse Society with a
Village Committee who acquired a hearse and it was main-
tained by small contributions by the members. In the event
of a death in the village this machine came into service, thus
considerably reducing the expenses at "uich a time. The
THE READIN* ROOM DENNER 73
hearse was kept at the rear of the village " store." After a
Reading Room " denner " one of the company had more
than his share of the " barley bree " and his companions
put him to sleep in the hearse. Others later thought it would
be a good joke to take the Hearse doon the Aberdour brae
for the distance of about a quarter of a mile and there they
left him. The story goes that at six o'clock in the morning
his companions had forgotten all about him and had gone
home. He, however, was wakened by the Stables Bell and,
crawling out, he was convinced that this was the Judgment
Morning and, finding that he was all alone, he said, shaking
his head, " Judgment Day an' I'm a' on ma ain. It's a
damned puir tum-oot for Fordell."
CHAPTER XXII.
The Sunday school picnic;
tired o' religion; and the menage
f "■' "i
1 HE children of Fordell had always one good day of
X the year, namely the Sunday School Picnic. For six
weeks previous to the picnic the children had to attend regu-
larly to entitle them to a ticket and, during that time, there
was no trouble in getting the attendance required.
Farmers in the district supplied corn " cairts " and at
an early hour on the Saturday morning of the picnic they
duly appeared with the horses, all dressed with ribbons, and
the drivers decorated with rosettes. The children were all
nicely dressed for the occasion at the expense of a sacrifice
on the parts of the parents and, armed with a " tinny "
each, they boarded these carts and the procession started for
some place like Aberdour or some private estate three or
four miles away. A melodeon player was always in the first
cart and to the singing of hymn tunes, Sankey and Moodie,
the procession made its way to the appointed place. Two
meals were served on the grass, cakes and milk, and between
the meals races and games amused the children.
This picnic was held by the Established Church at
Mossgreen, though the Sunday School was held at Fordell,
and all the children, with a very few exceptions, put in an
appearance. The main difficulty was a question of suitable
dress for the occasion, a question of expense. It was sur-
prising, however, to see very often how the very poorest in
the village managed to get there. Presents of suitable articles
of clothing, a dress and shoes, mysteriously found their way
to the poorer homes, quite a number by the colliery officials
acting on instructions from the " big hoose." The question
of the various religious denominations presented no difficulty
as the only place of worship was the Church at Mossgreen
with a mission meeting some time in the Auld Schule on
Sunday nights. No other religious denominations functioned.
The Rev. John Clark used to tell a story, against himself
and the Church of Scotland, of how one of his flock left his
church to join one of the newer forms of religion of the
THE SUNDAY SCHOOL PICNIC 75
Plymouth Brethem, who met at Cowdenbeath. He did not
stay away very long, but returned to Mossgreen Church after
a lapse of a few months. Mr Clark, anxious to know why he
had come back to the fold, put the question to him and
the reply was to the effect that he had left the Mossgreen
Kirk to go to a religious place, but after a while he got
tired of religion and he had to come back to the Auld Kirk,
as the Church of Scotland was best known by him.
As 1 sit here viewing the rapid demolition of this unique
village after many years of town life, both in Fife, Scotland
and England, and the very busiest centre of American life,
the uppermost thought in my mind was the happy content-
ment shown by the Fordell natives recalling the famous lines
in Gray's Elegy — " Far from the crowds ignoble strive, their
sober wishes never learned to stray."
Did they really enjoy this isolation from choice? After
all, the town life was not so very far removed, so I am
forced to the conviction that this was their ideal existence
and they desired no other. Certainly the cinema was never
even dreamed of but I had to come to the conclusion that
even the cinema at Cowdenbeath and Dunfermline, far less
the ice-hockey, would not have enticed them from their
isolation. There were two reasons I had in mind. The first
was the very small wages paid to the miners in these days
and the other was their inborn desire for peace and quiet.
Added to this, there was a natural feeling of inferiority com-
plex, which, to some extent, limited their desire to mix with
city life and the uncomfortable feeling of mixing with
strangers when they would be outside their element. They
had glimpses of that life when they spent their annual gala
in some big town and they preferred to spend their life
among their ain folk in their native village. I wondered how
many of the total number in the village actually never spent
a night out of their own home. Then how did they amuse
themselves for the rest of the year apart from the few fete
days in the village? Even at the New Year holiday time they
had an attraction of their own. I wonder how many people
have heard of the word " menage " and know its meaning.
Well, Fordell had a Menage at the New Year time. It was
conducted by a well-known man known as " Basty Reenie,"
no doubt the local pronunciation of Mr Sebastian Rennie.
With his wife, they lived in a two-roomed house with a stone
floor.
During the New Year week the kitchen, with its stone
floor, was, as usual, spotlessly clean. The couple invested in
76 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
a large number of New Year Black Buns, shortbread, cakes,
bottles of whisky and oranges. On a table in the middle of
the floor were laid six-sided dice and a dice box. There they
spent happy hours throwing dice, usually a penny a throw,
and when twelve people invested a penny a piece they threw
the dice until one with the highest number got a prize of
a cake of shortbread, a currant bun or a dozen of oranges.
For the whisky, valued at that time at half-a-crown, a larger
number of entries had to be secured before the throwing
started.
The younger generation were generally treated with
sweets and the men often started the night with a free drink
of whisky. On reflection after all these years, I am forced
to the conclusion that, though strong drink was often re-
ferred to in a way that gave one the opinion that temper-
ance was little known in the village, drunkenness was almost
unknown. I cannot remember seeing drunk men and, even
at the Menage, when drink was given free, the women folk
were never molested but always held in great respect and
treated as the gentler sex, though many could load a coal
waggon from the ground with a number ten shovel as well
as any man.
CHAPTER XXIII.
The evenm' danner wi' music
O^E popular way the young men and women spent
their summer evenings was the everuW « danner "
on the country roads leading from the village e jther on the
road to Aberdour or down the mineral railway a means of
amusement that was both healthy and, at the same time
responsible to a large extent for that " neeboriiness " which
characterised the village life.
These evening outings took place in the longest days of
the year. The pithead girls finished work about four o'clock
but by the time that they were " cleaned up " an( j jj a( j ne k>ed
with the household work the girls from the Dunfermline
linen factories were home and had their tea and those who
did housework had more than earned a tim e f or res t an( j
recreation. Shortly before seven o'clock, without anv ore-
arrangement, they would meet at different points some at
the Lovers' Loan, others at the end of Monteith Terrace
and with the arrival of the melodeon player, sometimes two'
a start would be made for the Aberdour Ro a< j t he favourite
walk, the melodeon player in front, with the rest made up
generally of mostly girls in threes, arm in arm> who joined
in with singing the tune selected. The young me n joined in
at different places or were at the usual halting place at the
bottom of the hill near to a convenient g ate to a field on
the roadside. That gate was very necessary as it provided
a seat for the musician. He had a very extensive repertoire
suitable for chorus work, when all would j j n m t jj e favour-
ites. Then he would strike up a waltz and dancing would
commence. One can easily understand how the waltz was
the favourite dance as the girls had either a h arc i t en hours
work at the pithead or had to make a very ear i v start t0 set
to Dunfermline and the sentimental rhythm of the waltz was
more in keeping with their physical conditi on and the still
and quiet of the rural surroundings. Occasi ona Ily there was
one of the more lively dances, such as the polka' but these
were favoured only by the youngest of th e company. The
selection of partners was a very simple matter for though
there was a " lad and lass " element and,,there were favourite
78 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
partners there was never a question of any girl being left
out. The melodeon players had a very extensive list of tunes
suitable for the occasion and the words of the well-known
waltz tunes provided the vocal part of the evening's enter-
tainment. There was a similarity in the evening programmes
on these occasions and the fading light and the order of
the tunes was a certain indication of the time when the
player got from his seat on the gate and the homeward
march would commence.
All the young men and women of the village were not
to be found there as a large number of the once habitual
attenders were now absent and it is not difficult to explain
why. One by one, or rather two by two, they answered the
mating call and what could be more natural than that of
the embrace of the waltz with the co-ordinating steps and
entrancing expressions of love should determine who were
best suited for each other. This was another example of
the silent courtship that brought about the wedding bells,
the ringing of the stable bell, and the flying of a flag on
the bride's house and the pulley wheel platform when one
or perhaps both were employed in that pit. They never
forgot these impromptu meetings and often took part in the
closing waltz as they made their way home from walks in
the country.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Neebors a'
C "y 1
I H'E married people found their enjoyment in their
A gardens in the spring, summer and autumn, for it
was only in the cold winter days that the Fordell gardens did
not attract the attention of the gardeners. Then the oldest and
youngest found house-to-house visitation a very pleasant
way of passing the winter nights. It was very seldom a house
door was locked and none boasted chub locks and when
bed time came there was no anxiety about the whereabouts
of missing members of a family for they could be found
next door very unwilling to come home and go to bed after
of course the nightly hands and face washing, especially the
hands. On the other hand the children returning home knew
that their parents could also be found next door for a
" blether," especially the mother, who could always find
many excuses of going next door if any excuse was required.
It will have been made apparent that this " neeborliness "
was a prominent feature of the village and although it was
practiced in other Scottish mining villages it was never to
the same extent as make it a characteristic feature as it was
in Fordell.
There is a well-known Scottish saying, " We're a' John
Tamson's Bairns," which does not need any explanation,
but that saying would have been refuted literally if applied
to Fordell last century, for while the sentiment was very
appropriate, Fordell natives never accepted John Tamson
as a native of the village, as they always associated him and
his descendants with Crossgates. The same may be said of
Geordie Penman, for years Provost of Cowdenbeath.
Although he was one of the branch of the family who went
to reside at Cowdenbeath and some who went to Kelty,
generally because of the number who took a prominent part
in the development of the mining industry, starting with
Auld Willie Penman, father of Provost Penman, who helped
to develop the industry in West Fife along with his many
sons. Then Geordie played a comet in Crossgates Brass
Band which was, to Fordell folk, inexcusable. They were
the prodigal sons of the village. Even with the Beveridges
80 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
one member of the family left many years ago. She was
Granny Beveridge who, after a very adventurous life with
her husband and family in different West Fife villages, event-
ually settled down at Cowdenbeath, where she passed away
a few years ago, over ninety years of age. She had always
a warm side for Fordell and used to relate to me of how at
one time her mother was employed underground in Bulwark
Pit and how she was actually born down the pit. When an
infant she was taken down the pit and was put to sleep in
some convenient " waste " not far away, near where her
mother was employed.
In these days there were stair pits in Fordell, the women
carrying the coal up the shaft in creels by a series of stair-
ways with suitable landings. Thus it will be seen that the
exception was the family who did not have a life-long family
connection with the village, and it extended to several gener-
ations. The closing down of the village recently, in one
instance, ended the residence of five generations in the
village, but there were instances of where members of the
fifth generations were still employed in Fordell Colliery.
This, to a large extent, explains the " neeborliness " in
the village as, while it is a common belief that relations
" 'greed better apairt," that did not apply to Fordell. Some-
times one heard the expression " I 'clare to my guidness ane
canna ca' his hoose his ain," but that was how the Fordell
folk wanted it and no other way.
This intermingling of the domestic relations of the differ-
ent families maintained a cameraderie best understood with
the word " neeborliness " that brought about so many bless-
ings. It brought about a broad and deep sympathy with each
other that tended to the general welfare of the village. As
has been shown, it was evident in time Of rejoicing, such as
a wedding and, in a lesser degree, a birth, but it was more
beautifully revealed at times of misfortune when all the best
traits in human nature came to the front, not with a show
of generosity, but with a modesty that was a part of their
existence. Their only recompense or award, though that
latter word was never contemplated, was the knowledge that
in their time of trouble and affliction the same kindly, prac-
tical sympathy would be extended to them. Residents in
the largest towns will find it very difficult to realise the full
truth of this Fordell " neeborliness " as, in many instances,
a family in a large tenement house always remained
strangers to many families in the same building. A well-
known West Fife man closely associated with Fordell tells
Fordell Brass Band — taken at Lassodie Games —
*&
p-
-1
. *
■*.-■:
vv*-„
-I '»» ** 4
*i.O
3^
Harry Lauder and his wife
John Smart and his wife
on the occasion of their golden weddin
NEEBORS A' 81
of an incident in New York of how he was once in the
happy position of being able to allow a man to fulfil a very
important appointment by giving him the small sum of five
cents, the relative value in the country at the time of a sub-
way fare of a penny, because he had inadvertently left his
home with no money. The American could not understand
how anyone would give him the money with no possibility
of repayment and it was only after travelling together for
over ten miles in the Subway that the Fifer was able to
convince him that the enjoyment and pleasure he received
out of doing another man a good turn compensated him
far and above the monetary value of the gift. I tell this
story at this stage to explain how, in many instances, in
Fordell many such gifts were made and all the more appre-
ciated because they were opportune and genuine because
they were anonymous.
As I sit here, in the days of National Assistance, compen-
sation, unemployment grants, old age pensions, and the
various sources of assistance to the ageing people, " free "
education, " free " books and bursaries, and recall the very
small wages of miners, no holidays with pay, no compen-
sation for going down the pit many days to find there was
no work because of such things as falls from the roof or
the common " no waggons," I marvel how the miners and
their families managed to exist. There were always many
holes in a miner's belt and many mornings he had to pull
his belt another hole before he went to his work in order
that his family or the family next door may get some sort
of breakfast.
I make no excuse for this digression as it explains in the
most thorough way that kindly feeling and I must repeat
the word " neeborliness " that existed in Fordell over sixty
years ago and for many years before and after.
There were no grants for special expenses at a birth but
the little " strangers " were always provided for in the way
of clothing. The many benefits of the modern maternity
hospitals of to-day must make one wonder at how in a village
of houses of not more than a " but and ben," and with
families that averaged six, that arrangements for a birth were
made possible, but the fact remains that these things took
place and the only explanation is that the immediate neigh-
bours rose to the occasion. The mother had a room to
herself and the husband and children were catered for with
food and sleeping accommodation while family washing for
the " neebors " was larger than usual and more often. " Just
F
82 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
the thing the doctor ordered" in the way of special diets,
such as eggs, and in some cases, wines, seemed to come from
nowhere and no one made inquiries as to whom the donors
were. Verbal thanks and appreciation were never given or
wanted.
Even the youngest children did their part in the way of
helping by not expecting so much of the attention bestowed
on them in normal times and they willingly ran the extra
messages when their only reward was a look at their little
sister or brother or, better still, the baby who had arrived
next door.
The occasion of a birth was, after all, an event for which
preparation in a general way could be made, but sickness
or aceident was an entirely different matter. In a mining
village the latter came upon them without warning, though
being an entirely mining village, there was always that feared
but unspoken dread that an accident underground would
take place, that all the care in roof support did not prevent
a " fall " because of a " greasy lipe " or some part of the
haulage would get put out of order.
CHAPTER XXV.
The toll of the pits
FATAL accidents in Fordell were exceptionally few,
however. Tombstones in Mossgreen Churchyard tell
of the victims of the explosion in the William Pit in the
seventies when the " gigsman," Mr Arnott, and pithead girls
were killed. In that case a boiler burst and the tragedy shocked
the Fife coalfield. A somewhat similar accident took place
at St. David's when a colliery engine boiler exploded and
two men were killed. At the beginning of the century two
men were killed underground, one the manager, Mr Morton,
and the other the Inspector of the Day Level, Mr Pollock,
both shank accidents, but up to within recent years a fatality
at the face was practically unheard of. Coal had been worked
on the Fordell Estate since the latter part of the 13th century
and Fordell village came into existence about 1800, but all
the time that coal was worked on the estate there never had
been anything in the shape of a serious mining accident.
This immunity can be attributed to the fact that boys who
entered the mines got very careful instructions from their
parents. A boy was placed under the care of his father, who
apprenticed him in the art of coal extraction and, above
all, " safety first," especially roof control.
In these days the coal was always hand picked; it was
long before the days of Horizon Mining, coal cutting
machines, belt conveyors and mechanical transport. The
lads took the coal in hutches to a point from which ponies
were used to convey the coal to the pit bottom. At the same
time the coal was taken from the best of the top seams and
gas and black damp was practically unknown. Safety lamps
were not required and thus the cause of most of the country's
mining disasters was absent. This was so until the working
of the Alice Pit, the latest pit to be sunk in 1880, but was
not operated until 1897, when mechanism was introduced,
but very fortunately gas, and its fatal companion " black
damp," have been absent. This state of affairs has proved
a great blessing to the Fordell miness and there has been
no call for the display of heroism which has been evident
84 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
when a mining tragedy has taken place in other parts of
the British coalfield.
On a few occasions, the coal has gone on fire by friction
in such seams as the Lochgelly Splint and there was never
any scarcity of volunteers for fire fighters, and the heroism
of the Fordell miners was never in doubt if ever there had
been the risking of life to save the lives of their fellow
workers.
CHAPTER XXVI.
My brother's keeper
IN a mining community there has always been the
individual accident, such as injuries to limb, which
necessitated a miner being laid off work for a time and here
we had the finest traits of the Fordell miners brought to
the surface.
In the days before the Miners' Compensation Act an in-
jured miner's home was bereft of income and where there was
only one wage earner in the home one can fully understand
what the position of affairs was. Here the miners came to
the rescue. This was responsible for the " drawings " at the
colliery office on pay days. Two men with a pass book stood
at the office and collected small donations from the workers
on getting their pay and donations were given by all, small
as they sometimes were, but which most could ill afford.
This was also carried out in the case of illness and there was
scarcely a pay day but there was a " drawing " for some
unfortunate family.
As I sit here in the brilliant sunshine and, looking over
the village to the pleasant scene to the south, with the Forth
Bridge in the background, with beautifully-wooded scenes
in the foreground making in all a picture to be remembered,
I wonder how many people in the present generation, having
successfully secured their share of the good things in life,
fully realise how different were the conditions sixty years
ago and how much worse they were for hundreds of years
before that in that wonderful village lying at my feet. Re-
viewing the lives of the natives is much simplified in the fact
that all the people to be dealt with were of the mining
fraternity.
Over sixty years ago, when I first made contact with
them, every house in the village belonged to the Fordell
Coal Company, always privately owned. Pits had been sunk,
worked out and abandoned, and the ones in existence then
were the William Pit, formerly called the Wellington, the
George, and the Lady Anne. The George, which was closed
down nearly sixty years ago, was the only means of supply-
86 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
ing the home market, with the exception of a small amount
in land sale from the Lady Anne, supplied to the countryside
in carts, the George being the only pit with a connection
with the national railways.
A friend of my youth, Tom Paton, one of the very few
boys from Cowdenbeath employed in the George Pit before
it closed down, explained to me recently that he got work
there because the pit was actually nearer Cowdenbeath than
Fordell. He was employed with a few others in the only
seam in operation in the pit and they could never be sure
of a day's work. In the morning they used to sit at the pit-
head and watch for a train of empty waggons that passed
daily on the main railway. If the train did not stop it meant
that there were no orders for coal and the men were idle
for that day. Back they would come next day always with
the optimism that the train would stop.
A private harbour, St. David's, was constructed in 1854,
which could take vessels of between 500 and 600 tons, and
was connected with a private railway laid down in the second
half of the 1801 century. It was a very primitive railway
indeed, as, while the waggon wheels were of iron, the waggon
rails were of wood. The waggons, very small, carrying a
little over two tons, are still in use today, but on iron rails.
I mention these details to explain the conditions which
had a very big effect on the lives of the Fordell miners.
Practically all the coal of the colliery was exported from
St. David's for ports in Britain and the continent. A large
amount was carried to the Baltic ports and the fact that the
Baltic was closed by ice for three months in the year had
a big influence on the colliery export trade and naturally it
affected the lives of the miners. Coal was very plentiful in
these days, with the result that competition for the foreign
market was very keen. Coal had to be sold at a very low
figure to get the market and the miners were the biggest
sufferers. The " face " miners were paid by results, namely,
at so much a ton of twenty- two cwts. after it had reached
the pithead. Unlike the coal sold today it had to be " clean "
coal and the miner had from his reduced earnings to pay
the wages of his " drawer " and " filler." My earliest recol-
lections were that the miner earned about 3/- to 3/6 per
day, not for an eight hours day, which was introduced later,
but to get as much money as possible in the form of wages
many a miner was always anxious to get " anither tither
yin," meaning another hutch of coal to give anything like
a living wage. Gradually the earnings of the miners got
MY BROTHERS KEEPER. 87
bigger and sixty years ago a couplet gave an indication of
the miners' ideal:
Eight hours to work
Eight hours to play
Eight hours to sleep
And eight " bob " a day.
For a long number of years that was only a dream, an
aspiration. A national basic wage was fixed in 1888 and
figured prominently until a few years ago. During that time
all increases were calculated on percentages on the old rate
of payment. That was a constant grievance, namely the fix-
ing of an increase on so much per cent, on basic rate of
many years before. Eventually that was altered and an in-
crease of say six per cent, was calculated on the then rate
of wages. However, the basic wage was not the factor that
determined the miners' remuneration. It was the question of
the loss of work caused by the pits being thrown idle from
several reasons, through no fault of the miners, when they
were not paid anything. At Fordell this was a very serious
matter which, in recent years, has entirely disappeared.
Nearly all the coal produced, as I stated before, for
reasons mentioned, was for the foreign market and exported
through St. David's. The closing of the Baltic ports had a
big say in this and during that time of the year the export
trade was much reduced and there was a keener competition
for the home market and the other European markets and
sometimes the difference of a farthing to a penny a ton
meant all the difference of getting a big order or not and
whether or not the pits were to be thrown idle. The pro-
prietors did their best to keep the pits going, but the limited
rolling stock in the form of waggons and the limited siding
accommodation, owned by Fordell Colliery, meant more
idle time and loss of wages for the miners. When the wag-
gons were full and there were no orders, the pits were thrown
idle. This was a serious matter for the miner as no work,
no pay, was the order of the day.
The proprietors, anxious to relieve the situation to some
extent, commenced laying down a reserve supply of coal,
known as a " bing," at the Lady Anne, but that was another
expense to be added to the working costs as, when business
improved, " filling off the bing " into the waggons, by means
of a steam hoist, had to be carried out. The rate of pay for
this work was very low but the miners were glad to accept
it, and a number were anxious to work extra hours at the
" bing " to eke out the family income, much reduced by the
8S BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
many idle days. There were anxious inquiries at St. David's
TJ th " b ° ate ^ WCre CX P eCted or were on thek way
and the miners waited with anxiety for news of empty wag-'
gons coming for the harbour. Meanwhile the "off take/"
such as rent, household coal and doctor's fees, had to be
met so that, m many instances, the pay lines every fortnight
were -very much reduced and a common expression 2
th balance was not worth the wasting of shoe leather to
CHAPTER XXVII.
John Tamson's bairns
HERE was where the " cameraderie " and the
brotherly atmosphere of Fordell village played its
part. Food was the first necessity. Potatoes were the main
source of diet and luckily they were a very cheap commodity.
" Tatties and dab at the stool " was very common. The pota-
toes, very often from a stock stored from a miner's garden and
given free, were boiled and served all round the family who
" dabbed " them into a dish of salt in the centre of the
table or on a stool in the middle of the floor. At certain
times of the year a herring " cadger " came from Inverkeith-
ing and got a good sale for his stock at three a penny.
Occasionally a miner killed a pig he reared and the pork
distributed at never more than sixpence a pound and very
often much less, even for nothing. Flour and meal provided
scones and porridge and milk was always a cheap com-
modity. Bootware seldom provided a difficulty for the
children, during the summer, ran about bare-footed and
the repairing of the men's and women's boots was solved
by quite a number of the miners who had become expert in
this work by practice. The cost of the leather was the only
expense. A barber's services were dispensed with as every
miner shaved himself and the sight of a miner or two who
had become proficient, through practice, in cutting the hair
of his many clients sitting at a back door of one of the
rows, was a common one. Outside the village there was a
common saying that the customers got a " bowl " clip when
kitchen bowls were placed on the head and the barber cut
round the bowl. I never came across any vindication of such
a rumour and the miners themselves decided that idea was
so ridiculous that they never troubled to deny it.
There were very strange ways of eking the family income
which often became a village contribution and to one I refer.
On the shores of Fife, near St. David's, were a very large
number of whelks, known locally as " wilks." The women
of Fordell used to go down there at certain seasons of the
year, especially at a spell of " idle days," and collect them
in pails and sell them to the " herring cadger " at Inverkeith-
90 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
ing at half-a-crown a bushel for export to London. The
children of Fordell used to like them, too, when boiled and
they were a " special " in their plain diet. The villagers never
went in for what they used to call new fangled dishes, though
often quite common in other places. Jenny Henderson could
never be coaxed to eat lettuce, her reason being that she
" wisna a coo."
The saying " The poor we have always with us " could
be applied always to Fordell in the early years. Illness was
a common cause of it, especially when the one affected was
the bread-winner. There was no income of any kind to the
house. The village is in the parish of Dalgetty and the head-
quarters of the Parish Council was at Aberdour. True, they
administered parochial relief, but the weekly amounts in
relief were so small and the travelling so much a difficulty
in bad weather, even for healthy people, that applications, I
heard, were never made. At the same time, the fact of a fam-
ily being on the Parish Council relief, and very often the offer
of the much-dreaded poorhouse, was so repugnant to Fordell
people that it prevented applications. The people of Fordell
had a better way of looking after their invalids or aged
poor. The word " pauper " was not in their language. It
was certainly in their minds on occasion but it was never even
whispered. They did good by stealth, but never had cause to
blush to find it fame, for it never became known. Here again
Mr Currie of Mossgreen School played a silent, but active,
part and he saw that the children never lagged in their edu-
cation for the want of school books. Even when parents were
able to afford the price of books he was sure that they were
not abused and when a member of a family passed a class
in the school with no younger sisters or brothers to get the
benefit of the books he saw to it that the books were not
allowed to lie unused.
The widows of the village also introduced a problem in
the days long before the advent of the widows' pension.
This was where the wee sweetie shop came in. The colliery
owners in such cases allowed a widow to use one room in
her house as a " sweetie shop," with a small counter and
a window for the display of her goods. Here was sold
sweeties, rock, the smallest of the kitchen and household
articles, such as a packet of pins, thread, penny bottles of
vinegar, penny packets of note paper. Once a week she made
" potted heid " which she sold for a few pence per bowl,
and often a large mangle was provided so that her customers
and neighbours could get their washing mangled at so much
JOHN TAMSON'S BAIRNS 91
a bundle. The young men of the village and the pithead girls
used to call and perform the hardest of the mangling and
thus the old woman secured a livelihood and maintained
her independence. Thus the village dealt with and solved
their own troubles with a modesty and a satisfaction of which
they had every cause to be proud. I have referred to their
desire to remain a complete and independent community
and one can now understand one reason for this and it was
a commendable one.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The Lowdeners
THERE was one time when an unconscious attempt
was made to interrupt this one family atmosphere.
It was in 1866, when three families of miners invaded the
village from the Lothians to find work in the Fordell Colliery.
They were promised work by the management, against the
wishes and inclinations of the entire village.
Necessity may be the mother of invention, but in this
case it determined that the families, in each case a father
and mother with three sons miners, and daughters, too, of
working age, and children of school age, numbering in all
twenty-four, had to take up residence and work there.
They were given work in both the Lady Ann and the
William pits but they were far from being accepted. All three
heads of families had dealings with the Lothian Branch of
the Miners' Union but that did not simplify matters. Fordell
miners and the inhabitants looked upon incomers as undesir-
ables, " Loudeners " or " Wast County Irishmen." The latter
referred to Irishmen in the mines in the west of Scotland and
some had got the length of West Fife but none had come
to Fordell. The Loudeners were the first to get behind what
now would have been called an " iron curtain."
The three families were " tolerated " for a very few years.
One went to Cowdenbeath and another went there also by
means of Hill-of-Beath to the collieries of the Cowdenbeath
Coal Company and The Fife Coal Company. The third
family, after a short while in a railway engineering works
at Edinburgh, returned to Crossgates. The only effect that
they had on the village life was that a son in the third
family was later married to a Fordell young lady but did
not take up residence in Fordell, but in Mossgreen. He later
became a leading official in the Fife Miners' Union. Thus
that " invasion " was defeated.
With the opening of the Alice Pit in recent years and
with it more important development, gradually the miners
employed there increased and they found that it was more
convenient to reside at Cowdenbeath, and whole families
removed there. That included the Japps, McArthurs, Muirs,
THE LOWDENERS 93
and Beveridges. The village instinct was retained and even
survived the closing down of the Lady Anne. By that time
the Fordell Brass Band had been disbanded, the Paraud a
thing of the past, and the Flooer Show discontinued. With
the introduction of the nationalisation of the coal industry
came the death knell to Fordell. The old miners' rows were
condemned as insanitary and not worth bringing up to mod-
ern conditions. St. David's harbour was closed and all the
trade was done through the railway which passed the Alice
Pit, their chief asset being the coal from the Fordell Splint
which had earned a great reputation for its high quality.
Today, only a few County Council houses are inhabited,
while close by stands the ruins of what was for a hundred
years a unique village, the only one of its kind in Scotland
or Britain.
For sanitary reasons and on hygienic grounds a large
number look, with satisfaction, on the departure of Fordell
as vast housing schemes, with all modern conveniences,
spring up within a few miles, providing all home comforts
as baths, bedrooms, hot and cold water, lavatories and coal
bunkers, all inside, not the least being wooden floors, but
forgive me if I think of that " neeborliness " and that family
spirit shown not only in times of rejoicing but equally brought
out in the bearing of one another's troubles and burdens.
As I have been looking on the ruins of the village I have
relived the many familiar scenes with ghost characters and
I come to the conclusion that while on the one hand the
miners of Fordell today are enjoying the many benefits of
advancing civilisation long overdue, there is something that
has not been carried forward with these improvements in
social conditions and which has been lost for ever. I slowly
arise from my vantage point to spend a time looking over
the tombstones in Mossgreen Churchyard and as I read
the names, growing indistinct with age, my thoughts go
back again to Gray's Elegy.
CHAPTER XXIX.
Mr Currie and family
I RETURN, however, and as I sit here, picturing our
school days of over sixty years ago, I realise the bene-
fits of contentment, especially when I recall a poem in which
the author proves that it would not be to our peace of mind
if we were able to predict what the future held in store for
us.. He expresses thus in the following lines:
The lamb thy riots dooms to bleed today,
Had he our reason would he skip and play?
Pleased to the last he crops his flowery food
And licks the hand that raised to shed his blood.
With this thought in my mind, I recall how we enjoyed
the very simple things life had for us, perhaps more so than
the school boys of today with all the modern means of
amusement and to those more serious minded the extra
means of education. I picture clearly the boys and girls pro-
ceeding to Mossgreen School by way of that beautiful, though
short walk, through the Bulwark and the carefree attitude
with which we entered the classrooms of the Currie family,
Mr Currie, or his son James, or his daughter, because of the
great interest they took in us educationally and socially. If
they were strict, especially Mr Currie, it was in one direction,
namely, cleanliness. No matter how poorly any one of the
pupils was dressed he or she must have clean hands and
each one had to take great care of their school books. They
impressed on all of us that our parents had to pay for the
school books, very often at the expense of household necess-
ities, that they themselves did without.
In the same school were boys and girls from Crossgates,
including Springhill, and while in school we all enjoyed a
certain companionship that ceased when the school was
dismissed at four o'clock and the Fordell pupils went east,
and the others went west. Our opinions of the " enemy "
were mostly vocal, unless we were outside the vigilance of
Mr Currie, but the Fordell spirit, born and bred in the
Fordell Watties of younger growth, was deeply embedded.
There was one matter, shared by our parents, mostly all
MR CURRIE AND FAMILY 95
former pupils, in which we were not divided, and that was
the high respect and almost loving regard for Mr Currie and
his family. Mr Currie had one aim in life and that was to
give his pupils all the education he could possibly instil. In
this, he got the sympathy and assistance of the Henderson
family who, besides providing prizes to induce the pupils
to give of their best, presented special tit-bits in a general
way. Mr Currie had also a way of his own to encourage the
best from us — by the gifts of a penny each to pupils whom
he described as a credit to his class. This specially referred
to the visits of H.M. Inspectors. I remember one particular
day when Mr Smith, the Inspector, examined the class his
first question was in connection with the Battle of Quebec.
I happened to be the first he asked and, very fortunately,
the night before I happened to read a book dealing with
this, and being interested in this battle and General Wolfe,
I recited this to the extent of over a hundred words. The
Inspector was so pleased that he said he would ask no more.
After his departure, Mr Currie questioned the rest of the
class on what they knew about the battle and, alas! they
knew very little. That was made the occasion of two pence
that day as " I had saved the honour and reputation of the
class." That night I was a hero and I did not go home by
the Bulwark but by College Brae, in the company of two of
the girls of the class, Mary Hamilton of the College, and
Aggie Japp of Coles Terrace, who selected me for special
attention to the annoyance of the other boys. On another
occasion, I recited the whole of the 12th Chapter of Ecclesi-
astics and I got another honourable mention, along with the
usual financial consideration. Once again I was selected for
special favours from my girl friends when I again took the
long way home. I felt highly honoured at the special atten-
tions on the way and, as I had repeated the whole chapter,
I felt I was quite entitled to all the good things said about
me. One mistake I did make, however, and it was that in
the recital of the various verses about the wheel broken at
the cistern and the dust returning to the earth as it was, and
the spirit returning to the Lord who giveth it, I failed to
realise that that recital of the verses was less important than
the understanding of them. Several years later I was in
church when the minister made that particular chapter his
lesson for the day. I remember him starting with the well-
known words "Remember thy creator in the days of thy
youth" and inaudibly I went over the chapter with him.
Then the great truth struck me and the meaning of the words
96 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
dawned upon me for the first time. Then came the greatest
shock, when he came to the words " Vanity of vanity, saith
the preacher, all is vanity." In my spirit of boastfulness, I
must have read that chapter many times and had not under-
stood what the words meant and the words " Vanity of
Vanities," now fully understood, showed me for the first
time how blindly vain I had been. My thoughts went back
to Mr Currie, who had passed away a few years previously,
and I never have had the opportunity of explaining my
shortcomings to the girl friends of my youth, but I hope
that my blushes will be spared if I meet them by them
having forgotten the incident.
Mr Currie's interest in his pupils was not only during
school hours but was often expressed in private talks with
our parents, all with the one idea, namely, the advance-
ment of our education and it was always a source of great
regret when a bright pupil had to leave school after passing
the fifth standard to go to work to eke out the family in-
come. He regretted the absence of the continuation classes
and did his best to encourage pupils after leaving school to
continue studies. I will always remember how one night, in
a coal house, with the light of a candle, he expounded the
Pons Asinorum of Euclid. The blackboard was a large
" gathering coal " and I will never forget how he went over
the problem until, as he said, " all the asses had crossed the
bridge."
s\
~1
Picture of St David's Harbour from an o
One of the original Fordell waggons, used in connection with the priva
CHAPTER XXX.
Boys will be boys
OCCASIONALLY, when confronted with juvenile
delinquency of more recent years and, as well,
the many benefits of more recent times almost showered on
the boys and girls in the way of children's treats, organised
games, and outings, I cast my mind back to recall how we
behaved as boys.
Firstly, I wish to state that our behaviour could very
well be summed up in the common expression of excuse for
boys, namely, " boys will be boys," and that covers a great
deal. We did not lament the absence of the Cinema in the
village for a very good reason and for the same reason there
was no cycling and so we had to make our own amusements
in games that did not cost anything. Rounders, leap-frog,
and the usual boisterous games were indulged in. Football
was beginning to have a hold in the county and various
attempts were made to form a village club by the boys them-
selves. The procedure was the same in each instance, namely,
a collection book went round the doors, and we were very
lucky to get as much in that way as buy a ball in the vicinity
of three shillings, all in penny donations. The " Committee "
took the money to the manager of the " Store " who secured
the ball. The team was formed with plenty aspirants for
any vacancies and we played friendly games with other
schools in the district. The name of the team was " Fordell
Heatherbell" and our big day was when we walked to
Dunfermline to play a team there in the morning, the team
carrying a " piece " each so that we would be in a position
and a condition to crawl under the fence or over it to see
the Dunfermline Athletic game in the afternoon. These Dun-
fermline games always coincided with the Athletic, our
heroes, home games, and the same care was taken for home
games with the Cowdenbeath team. One of our players,
John Ford, and mind you he stayed at Springhill, outside
the limits of Fordell, eventually played for Dunfermline
Athletic. This must have been before the days of transfer
for we took him from the Crossgates team. I remember in
the early days the position of goalkeeper was not popular,
98 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
for then it was quite legitimate for one opposing player to
charge the 'keeper while another scored. I have vivid re-
collections of this because I was usually the goalkeeper.
As I said, we had various teams, for the club usually came
to an end when the ball was past repair and, after a time
of idleness, we started the whole proceedings over again to
get the necessary ball. Goal nets were not used. As a matter
of fact, we had no goal-posts and there were often hot argu-
ments about whether or not the ball was too high for the
'keeper to possibly save before the goal was allowed. Some-
times we had great difficulty in getting a team to travel, as
often a player had first of all to run the Saturday messages
before he was allowed to travel with his team, after a depu-
tation had prevailed upon a mother, who thought that the
messages came before football. Once there was a question
of whether or not we could leave to play at Dunfermline or
Cowdenbeath from a moral point of view, as the fear was
expressed that we would be soon as bad as the boys were
in these "toon-."
However, tiiere was never any danger of that calamity
falling on Fordell. The boys were just boys with all boyish
tricks and pranks but I cannot remember any occasion when
the local police-man had to be brought in to attend to any
misdemeanour. Perhaps the reason for this was that, as all
the boys in the village were miners' sons, the colliery manager
saw to their good behaviour. I remember once some of the
boys, including myself, set fire to some dried grass in the
vicinity of the workshops, with no seeming danger to any
property, but next day after school we were taken to the
colliery office by our respective mothers and there we re-
ceived a dressing-down by the manager. We never returned
there again. Occasionally the policeman from Springhill
came to the village, but it was only to get his book signed
to prove that he had been there at a certain time.
There may have been cases from Fordell at the Dunferm-
line Sheriff Court but I cannot remember even one. To us
boys the policeman was a reminder that " crime did not
pay " and someone who had to be avoided in an official
capacity. For a long time the policeman was Mr Mclnnes,
and I will always remember an experience with him of which
he was unaware. My brother and I were returning home
from Crossgates through the Bulwark Wood when I spied
a " cushie doo's " nest at the top of a tall fir tree. I was
dared to go up and that dare was not to be scorned to
maintain my prestige and so up that tree I went. I had just
BOYS WILL BE BOYS 99
informed my brother, younger than I was, that there was
one egg in the nest when he called out to me that " the
' bobby ' is coming," and then made off. I started to descend,
but I soon realised that I had not the time to do so and
escape, so back I went up the tree to the very top. It would
not be for long, I thought, for I knew that he had not seen
me. Along he came when, to my dismay and horror, instead
of proceeding to the village, he stopped at the bottom of
the tree and, sitting down on a stone, drew out his pipe
and commenced to smoke. The top of the tree was very
slender and swung and creaked with my weight. For about
a quarter of an hour, it seemed like two hours, he quietly
enjoyed that smoke and then walked away to the village
and I followed, shaking all over, but very thankful for that
escape.
I had another exciting experience at that place. In the
Bulwark Wood there was a pond of stagnant water that
nobody knew the depth of. One winter afternoon, when this
pond was frozen over, we boys dared each other to see if
the ice was bearing. I risked too much and proved that it
was not bearing for I disappeared below in the dirty water.
I did not remember very much beyond hearing noises in
my ears like Fordell Band playing the " Flooers o' Edin-
burgh." I woke up in bed. No doctor was sent for but I
had to swallow a large cup of salts to clear my stomach of
the dirty water. The relief that I was not drowned saved me
from further parental punishment. Later I heard a recital
of the details of the rescue, of how a man passing by just
managed to get hold of my hair and pulled me out, and of
how I was carried home on a shutter from Anson Hill. I
missed that sight but one older boy said that I looked " a
bonrrie corpse." I did not miss the next incident in the Bul-
wark when Jimmy Lyon, from the Lang Raw, fell down
from a tree and fractured one of his arms. I was one of the
stretcher party that got the same shutter and carried him
home.
CHAPTER XXXI.
A tough breed
THE Fordell " Watties " must have been a tough
breed. They had practically nothing in the way of
special home comforts, as compared with the miners' houses
of to-day. A wooden tub in the middle of the kitchen floor
was the equivalent of the splendidly equipped pithead baths
of to-day and only a few houses had wooden floors, the
exceptions to the fireclay brick floors.
Many an old Fordell miner used to say that stone
floors were handy in one way. When he let his pipe
fall on the floor, only clay pipes were used, he "needna
bother pickin' it up," and the " auld wife " said that applied
to crockery also, but it was a blessing that cups and saucers
were cheap and clay pipes were six a penny. The companion
blessing to the modern pithead bath is the arrangement for
the drying of the miners wet clothes at the pithead. Not
only did the earlier miners have to walk home in all weathers
in their wet clothes, but the drying of them occupied all the
attention of the miners' wives in the evenings and all the
available space in front of the fire. There were no complaints
about a service of hot water for they had not cold water
laid in. That supply came from the cast-iron wells outside,
one for each miner's row. The water was kept in pails in a
recess between the back door and inside door of the kitchen.
These were covered to keep out the dust and the domestic
cat in search of a drink.
There were only open fire grates which limited the fare
to soups, potatoes, stews and boiling beef and anything that
only required frying. A necessary article of furniture was
the washing pot to boil the water for washing day and, in
the case of a very large family, to make as much " kail "
and potatoes as supply the needs. When all the members
of the family were in good health the sleeping accommoda-
tion was often a worry, but if anyone was ill, it was a prob-
lem and shake-downs had to be resorted to. Little assistance
could be given by the next door neighbour, eager as they all
were to help, but despite all these drawbacks, the village
was wonderfully healthy.
A TOUGH BREED 101
No district nurse visited the village but the midwife was
a constant visitor. Then some of the youngest members of
the family had to " bide " a day or two with their relations
who could squeeze them in.
There was never anything in the way of an epidemic
which was something that they were thankful for. If there
had been, no blame could be attached to the drains for, as
far as I ever knew, there were none. I never remembered
ever seeing a fever van in the village and the ambulance
waggon in mining districts was unknown. Fortunately there
were no serious accidents in the Fordell pits and the colliery
stretcher proved suitable for all cases. There were, of course,
always the colds, bronchitis, etc., and a few had influenza
when it was fashionable as a new disease. Still there were
cases of illness and old people had eventually to be set aside
for attention.
Miners, as a general rule, never lived to what was gen-
erally called a ripe old age and a miner constantly employed
in the coal mines was an old man at sixty years, whereas
today many miners are still employed underground over
seventy years of age and they walk erect. The old miners
used to be easily recognised by their bent backs, more so
the taller men, as a result of low working places. Fordell
old miners were an exception to this rule and quite a few
lived to pass the allotted span. There were two reasons for
this. One was that the Fordell miners did not have the long
stretches of continuous work for the reasons I gave previously
and miners had time to spend in their gardens for which
the village was famous.
It was indeed a healthy exercise and recreation only
available in good weather with good air to breathe, and
the sky as the " roof." Then the colliery management was
very good to the old miners in finding work for them on
the surface, such as the maintenance of the colliery railways
or odd jobs at the pitheads or colliery workshops. Such
work was known among the miners as " abine " ground
and a story is told of how an old miner went to a pithead
foreman and asked for a " job abine wark." The reply was,
" I hope you get it ' luddie ' for I've been lookin' for a job
like that nearly a' ma life." I told this story to an English
friend without success until I told him that " abine " was the
Scottish word for above.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Under the surface
IN recent years I have been closely connected with old
folks treat committees, organised about 1910, first of
all for a social gathering and then for outings in the summer.
Other bodies took up the matter, until now the ageing
population, especially those of seventy years, are entertained
in several ways. Old age pensions have reached and now
have passed the thirty shillings a week mark. This some-
times makes me wonder if the unarranged method adopted
by the village for the care of their old folk had not a beauti-
ful point in it, lost in the present scheme of things in the
care of the old folks. The retirement pensions gives a certain
amount of independence, but oh, how the old folk hate the
words National Assistance on their pension books and the
words Home and Hospital does not take away the feeling
that they are dependent on charity. There is no doubt what-
ever that the old folk get many more comforts today than
the village of Fordell could bestow on their veterans, but
their independence was preserved with the absence of official-
dom with its charity lists and public manifestations.
In Fordell there was that united, happy family feeling
that meant so much to the old folk as they were made to
feel that all the benefactions came from the sons and daught-
ers of that large, united family. I cannot help from feeling
that with the increased national and local attention to the
old folk for their gtaeral welfare that it would be such a
blessing and relief to the old folk if the Fordell spirit found
a place. One old lady friend of mine is always very per-
turbed at the National Assistance on her pension book and
it is always a question of her needs versus her pride and
dignity as to whether she refuse to answer the same old
questions that are asked at intervals as to her financial
position. The words Retirement Pension would make such
a difference. Her position always reminds me of that famous
quotation from Romeo and Juliet, " My poverty but not my
will consents."
Sickness and death, despite the excellent health enjoyed
by the inhabitants, could not be kept entirely out of the
UNDER THE SURFACE 103
village and now and again death paid an unwelcome visit.
In the march of time the aged eventually went the
way of all flesh and in such a case it was a village funeral
and a village in mourning. It always struck me as a peculiar
feature of the village that while deaths were very few in
each established family the father could always attend a
funeral in the orthodox mourning attire, which included a
hard hat, black tie, and black clothes, which were stored
away in one of the drawers of the old fashioned chest of
drawers and were as carefully laid away at the end of the
day. When the Laird passed away the miners were represented
and, at the funeral of Lady Henderson, there were eighteen
miners present as pall-bearers, with tile hats, in relays of
six, to carry the coffin from the Castle to the Chapel in
answer to a last request by her ladyship, revealing the strong
affection between master and servant. A Fordell funeral was
a man's affair and no more appropriately solemn company
of mourners ever followed a hearse.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
The care of the aged
THE position of the aged miner who, after a very
strenuous life of toil, and no longer able to main-
tain himself and his wife, but had to depend on his family
for their maintenance, was always a social problem in the
village.
In most cases, each of their sons had a large family to
support and the loss of their independence was always in their
minds. They were dependent on their relatives for their keep
and home, and even for the small luxuries, such as tobacco,
making their lives a mere existence in a house in which
the accommodation was limited, with nothing to live for.
Their fondest dream was that in their days of retirement
the aged couple could get an " end o' their ain," a one-roomed
house, but that was only a forlorn hope as they had not
even the means of paying the rent, not to mention their food
and clothing. Continually in their thoughts was the terrible
dread of having to spend the rest of their lives in the " puirs-
hoose," or workhouse, which would be to them the end of
everything. The leaving of the village to spend their days,
separated from each other, dependent on the meanest form
of public charity after a life of useful toil was like a horrible
nightmare to them. The " big hoose " in the " toon," with
the county prison on one side and the cemetery on the other,
was often pictured in their minds, but never referred to in
their speech. It is to be recorded, however, that though there
seemed to be no possible escape for them entering that
building on the entrance to which could well be written the
words " Abandon hope all ye who enter here," something
always cropped up and the village never failed their veterans.
Though it was little they could do, they always succeeded in
some way in putting off that day they so much dreaded.
Make-shift measures become permanent and a " slice off the
loaf was never missed " was the main argument for each
action. The old folk remained in the village and the married
ones stayed together to give mutual comfort to each other
when needed and when the end came to each one he or she
was laid to rest in Mossgreen cemetery, " up the brae," with
the loving care of their life long friends when word ' pauper '
was never mentioned or even thought.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
A village family
SICKNESS, especially that of serious nature and among
women and children, was a woman's affair and a
change in the bustle of village life was noticeable. The children
were duly impressed of the great need for silence in the
vicinity of the house where the patient was in bed and they
spoke only in whispers. Boisterous games were discontinued
and hourly bulletins of how the patient was progressing, or
otherwise, were conveyed by mouth to mouth through the
rows.
Occasionally a serious illness attacked one of the children
of the village and it was in such instances that the entire
village were united in a common sympathy and bereavement.
During the illness, and afterwards, verbal sympathy was ex-
ceeded by that of a practical kindness, and the thought that
was predominant was the wish to help in some way. Miners
would gladly " lie on " for the father of the invalid child,
an expression to mean he would do his own day's work and
then return to the pit to do a day's work for the father in
order that he could sit up with the patient all the night. In
such an instance there were no words of thanks asked or
given. Such actions was always fully understood and appreci-
ated and verbal thanks would upset both parties. News of
the patient's condition was broadcast throughout the village
from door to door. The main source of information was the
village well nearest the house of the patient, At such a time
the " neebors " were always needing water, usually attended
to by boys or girls, but on such an occasion the women went
there themselves for it was there the bulletins were sent out.
Three women, with pails already full of water, would be
joined by another whose first question would be, "Hoo is
she this mornin', Nell? "
There was no need to state who the ' she ' was, for the
whole village knew it was Jeannie, the elder daughter of a
miner and his wife, whose house was only a few yards away.
"Weel, we dinna richt ken except that Mrs Japp said
that she wisna sae richt this mornin'. Hooever, it's aboot
the doctor's time so we're jist hingin' on tae see."
106 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
Talk turns round the question of what the ailment is
and Nell says she heard it was " a sittin' doon cauld efter
gettin' weet when two or three of them went tae Eberdour
and got drooked."
Mrs Brown added that she was aye feared o' thae sittin'
doon caulds as it often led to pneumonia or pleurisy and
maybe waur.
" You can never ken what a cauld will land into," said
Nell.
Eventually one sees the doctor coming out of the house
by the back door. He apparently had gone in by the front
door. As he passed, they eagerly looked at his face to try
and get same idea from his expression about how serious
the situation was, but they got none.
Who was to go and find out? Eventually the oldest, Mrs
Bell, having the biggest family, is deputed to inquire. After
knocking gently at the door, she is admitted and then her
friends wait patiently for her return.
It was some time before she reappeared and it did not
take her friends long to learn that she had got bad news and
when she shook her head sadly they were convinced of it.
" She's taen pneumonia," she said slowly, " and she is in
a bad way."
" Ye ken, I was feared o' that, but I didna like tae say,
hopin' I was wrang," said Nell.
" Weel," said Mrs Bell, " there's nae guid tae be dune
talkin' aboot it. We have tae dae oor bit. She canna leave
the wean an' there's things tae be got frae the chemist. I
have the doctor's line here and I'll get oor Wull to gaun
tae Crossgates for the medicine. He's on the back shift."
Bad news travels fast and soon all the village are in-
quiring in what possible way they can help. The younger
member of the family is taken away to be looked after by
an Auntie and more offers of bedside sitters are made than
can be taken advantage of. Cooked meals find their way
into the afflicted home and the mother has no worries about
washing day as, according to the " neebors," " two or three
bits o' things extra is neither here nor there." So the days
go slowly past, the mothers always having in their mind the
day when the invalid " will take the turn " for the better
or worse. It takes one who has had a Jife-long experience
of these hardened sons of the mines to really appreciate
anxiety that is occupying the mind of the father, never ex-
pressed in words.
To do a day's hard work for a companion would be
A VILLAGE FAMILY 107
a much more simple matter than the giving expression of
his feelings, or to talk in affectionate terms to the invalid.
He is at loss to know what to say or do at the bedside and
a long walk in the country is his escape from himself. In
her quiet moments, the invalid, when alone with her father,
thinks of her Sunday School class and she will express the
wish for the recital of some hymn, but again, the father is
at loss to know what is appropriate. Of a sudden, he remem-
bers a verse of a hymn and, hoping his memory will not
fail, he starts slowly:
// / come to Jesus
Happy I shall be,
He is gently calling
Little ones like me.
He heaves a sigh of relief at remembering so much and at
the knowledge that she has fallen asleep, drawing the bed-
clothes round her neck, looks at her affectionately and softly
he leaves the room. If a tear comes to his eye, he roughly
brushes it away with his hard hand and he goes out into
the night for that blessed solitude when he can battle with
his emotions.
The day of the crisis comes and the news is broken joy-
fully that she has taken the turn. The whole village rejoices
with thankfulness. The reaction is again a trying time for
the father's emotions and, if he does not go for a solitary
walk, he willingly accepts the invitation of some of his
friends to join them in Mrs Hamilton's in the " College." It
is an escape valve for his pent-up feelings and emotions,
never condemned, but so readily understood as a thanks-
giving.
CHAPTER XXXV.
Heroic women
— ,
L VER since I first took an interest in social matters,
ft-rfboth commercial and individual, I took a special
interest in the women of Fordell. As I got to know them
better, through close acquaintance in their daily life, and
got really to understand their attitude to their responsibilities
as mothers and members of a community linked up into one
big family, and what they were prepared to sacrifice for the
general welfare, I found I had developed an admiration for
them and all they represented.
As girls they were fortunate in their school life in that
they had a schoolmaster who, besides giving them a strong
foundation in the three R's and sewing, he devoted special
attention to their cleanliness and manners. Clean hands and
face, especially the hands, was demanded and the proper
care of their clothes was duly impressed upon both boys
and girls. Honesty and due respect to their elders was de-
manded from his pupils. It was not enough for a pupil to be
clever and even brilliant. He or she had also to be clean,
respectful to their elders, honest, and possess good manners.
Thus the girls left their school days behind them, deter-
mined to live up to the moral code laid down by Mr Currie,
who helped them considerably by keeping in touch with
them whenever he had the opportunity and very often he
made the opportunity.
At twelve years of age the girls did not go into employ-
ment right away, except in a few cases, but they did house-
work, lessening the arduous task of the mother, who generally
had to look after a large family, especially those under school
age. She always found plenty to do in the house, leaving
the mother to look after the cooking of meals during the
day and the drying and mending of the pit clothes at night.
Bringing in the messages was one of the girl's duties, while
she had to keep a constant supply of water from the street
" well " and coal from an outside wooden cellar.
Let us take a look at the domestic conditions that pre-
vailed in the village in these days. As I stated previously,
the houses were of two-apartments, a but and a ben, some
HEROIC WOMEN 109
lucky to have wooden floors. There were two fixed-in wooden
beds in each room, and old-time open fire with no oven.
An average family would consist of eight persons, father
and two sons, miners, two daughters over school age, and
children at school. One of the oldest girls would probably
be working at a pithead and the mother would have to " pit
the workers oot in the mornin'." That meant preparing break-
fast and making up the " piece boxes," four " shaves of
bread " in the form of sandwiches, one with butter and the
other jam or cheese. The butter was margarine, known gen-
erally as " pit butter." As the work at the pit started at six
o'clock the four workers had to leave home shortly after
five o'clock. There was a quiet time until the bairns had
to get ready for the schule, which began at nine o'clock. By
that time the general work had commenced. The " messages "
had to be got from the " Store " and, as the children came
home from school at one o'clock, the dinner had to be at-
tended to. The most common meal was " kail," the name
for vegetable soup, cooked in the " kail pat," one big enough
to hold as much as supply the whole family. In it was cooked
a piece of boiling beef and another pot was used for boiling
the potatoes. The children at school were first supplied
shortly after one o'clock and the rest was kept hot for the
workers at three o'clock, but before the introduction of the
eight hours day that hour was often extended until past
four o'clock. By that time the workers were ready for that
meal and in their pit clothes they sat round the table in
the middle of the floor. During the meal the mother, helped
by a daughter, prepared the warm water for the men to
wash themselves. As this was many years before the idea
of baths being in the house, and before the introduction of
the pithead baths, the procedure of the washing was the
placing of a large wooden tub in the middle of the floor.
The men washed themselves right to the waist but not the
back as that was considered conducive to a weakening of
the back. Each one was only too glad to throw aside his
pit clothes and boots as very often they were damp when
he worked in a " wet place " in the pit. There was no carpet,
as, after the operation, the floor had to be thoroughly washed
out and scrubbed.
The men then generally took a walk when the weather
was good or did some work in the garden, the source of the
vegetables that were part of the mid-day meal. The mothers
were then left with the care of the pit clothes and boots. The
latter had to be dried and cleaned and rushed to the cobbler
110 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
if repairs were needed, but necessity often made the miners
do their own repairs. The drying of the clothes often made
life in the room very uncomfortable for the clothes occupied
all the space in front of the fire. The nature of their work
was such that the mending of the clothes was a daily per-
formance. This was done after tea and was a tedious and
painstaking job.
Such was the daily routine of the women of the village
and one can easily understand that Sunday was indeed a
day of thankful rest.
Yet the women did not choose this life blindly, for all
their lives, especially after school days, they fully realised
what was in front of them if they did not step out of line
and seek another career. They knowingly accepted the life
as a fulfilment of their duties to the village that meant so
much to them, the home of their forbearers for many gen-
erations. They were never heard to complain, but amidst such
discomforts, it is surprising how they could pick out and
enjoy the few bright spots when they came along. To follow
in their mother's footsteps could not be a pleasant prospect
but they cheerfully did so and, in due time, married a young
miner of the village and started another generation. When
I think of the women of Fordell I touch my hat to them
as they stand out in my memory as real heroines of industry.
That refers not only to the women of my school days but
to generations in front of them, when their work at home
was even more arduous when they took part in the actual
work of producing coal in the pit itself.
Coal was worked on the Fordell estate hundreds of years
ago but only the very top seams which came to the surface
or, to use a mining term, " crapped oot." The accumulation
of surface water in the workings, however, prevented work
to any considerable depth, and then another surface seam
was tapped further north and one nearer to Crossgates. One
of the Fordell Lairds went in for a very expensive scheme
of an underground water-way called a " day level " and took
the water to a low part on the estate, just a little above sea
level. This allowed lower seams to be operated and other
pits were sunk. To accommodate the increased number of
miners, the proprietors then erected the village of Fordell
in the latter part of the eighteenth century. In these days the
men worked at the coal face, but the women were also
employed. Their job was to take the coal in baskets or
creels to the pit bottom and at one time actually carry the
coal up the pits, fixed with stairs, long before the days of
HEROIC WOMEN 111
mechanical raising of the coal, first of all by horse " gin."
The For dell women continued in this work until 1850 when
an Act of Parliament put a stop to females being employed
underground. Their hours of labour were long and their
wages very small but were necessary to raise the family
income to a living wage. In the winter time, and even the
spring and autumn, the men at the " face," and the women
on the low roadways, never saw the daylight until Sunday
came round.
Indeed it was no surprise to find that the older men and
women walked with a stoop because of the long hours em-
ployed in very low working places. Holidays were almost
unknown and so stern was the necessity for the women to
work as much as possible that there were occasions when
a child was actually born in the pit. In my youth I actually
had it first hand from some old women that children were
born in the pit and were nursed by their respective mothers
in a recess in the " waste " when the mothers had the op-
portunity to do it. As the Act of Parliament, that gave the
miners their freedom from serfdom, was passed many years
before this time, then women must have been employed
underground more than fifty years after the miners, male
and female, were given their freedom of service, celebrated
every year by the Fordell Paraud. This is the story of the
women of Fordell long before the village came into existence.
When I first heard of the reason for the Paraud I used to
wonder what they had to rejoice about, but the fact stands
out prominently that their appreciation of the kindly act of
colliery owners had been kept alive for a hundred years by
the annual time of rejoicing in July.
The Fordell miners were never paid any higher wages
than the general rate of the county but it was the kindly
consideration of the Henderson family that brought them
nearer to the hearts of the villagers, such as I have referred
to previously, prizes for *the gardens, for the flower show,
the upkeep of the brass band, and the reading room merit
prizes for the school children, and small gifts to the needy,
poor and the sick. It was this and the recognition of the
Fordell miners by a last request from Lady Henderson to
take their place at her funeral and to carry her remains to
their last resting place, that made the village so complete
as a community so effectively as though it was walled round
about. That the miners and their families did their part in
this was never in doubt. Poverty was always just round
the corner and kept there by courage of the Fordell miners
112 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
and, even more so, by the Fordell women from the dark
ages when they did men's work in the pits. Devotion to their
families and a pride in their native village made them do
wonders in housekeeping.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
Seterday nicht
AMUSEMENT and entertainment was practically
nil and the village with no streets, far less street
lighting, put on the shutters when darkness fell. This
brought about one blessing, namely, the strengthening of
the home life in which the mother took the leading part
in the entertainment of the younger members of the family.
I can well remember Saturday night as bath night, followed
by a short concert, all taking part. The " elders' oors " on
Sunday was eight o'clock and that started the singing of
popular hymns concluding with mothers' favourite, " My
Ain Countrie," from Sanky and Moody's hymnbook, in nearly
every home, and concluding by father reading a chapter of
the Bible. While this was so, no one ever thought that Fordell
was a religious village. In fact the " unco guid " who visited
the village thought otherwise but, to my mind, if ever there
was a devout religion it was practised by the women of
Fordell, who religiously devoted their lives to their families
under all kinds of conditions, without thought of award,
other than the sense of fulfilment of a duty they took upon
themselves, foreboding as the future must have been.
H
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Story of the Fordell miners
? n 1
i HEN we have the men of the village, the back-bone
J. of the community that dwelt behind those diamond
panes for generation after generation.
As a lad, I was deeply interested in these men. I tried
to get their confidence and occasionally I seemed to get
behind what seemed to be an impenetrable cloak of silence
in connection with their past and that of their forefatheis.
Local knowledge and gossip gave me the idea that, in most
instances, and especially in the case of the least talkative,
they were the existing generation of many generations be-
yond living memory. It was a difficult matter to get them
to tell me what I, wanted to know as to their life, their habits,
and how long they had been associated with the mining
industry. I was most successful with old Wattie and I gradu-
ally broke down his reserve in my attempts to get really
inside his inner self.
" You are a queer laddie," he used to say to me, " but
I've taen a likin' tae you, yet I canna understand why you
pit aff your time talkin' to an auld man like me. I'm shair
you wud be far better aff if you played with the ither laddies."
When he said that he had taken a liking to me I knew
I was well on the way to getting what I wanted, for words
of endearment, even the word " liking " were scarce, almost
absent, in their vocabulary.
Then one night in the mirk, when he was resting on his
" hunkers," as all miners do, after attending to his garden,
I found him in a rather reminiscent mood. That day he had
helped to lay an old companion to rest in Mossgreen Church-
yard. Here was a chance in a thousand and I took full ad-
vantage of it. I referred to his late friend in a quiet manner,
how he had so little to say, even among his cronies and in
the home, of his reluctance to express himself on any matter,
even his employment, and, least of all criticism, his lack of
interest outside his work and a devotion to his garden. Be-
yond the annual Paraud he never seemed to have any form
of enjoyment and recreation.
" Does that surprise you? " he said quietly.
STORY OF THE FORDELL MINERS 115
I confessed that it did and he remarked, very pointedly,
that I did not know the Fordell miners.
" Why are they so much different from any other miners
I had met with? "
" Weel, luddie, that is quite a long story " he said.
I assured him I would like to hear it and with a " Weel,
luddie, as there is nothin' ' pushin' ' the nicht, I'll tell you
a thing or twa aboot the Fordell Watties."
" It gauns back a gey lang time tae the days afore coal
howkin' and that is hunners of years back. That was the
time afore folk kent what coal was. Withoot takin' in Dun-
farlin', with its weavin', the only ither wark in these pairts
was fermin', though there was eye somethin' daein at the
herbours like Chairlestown, and sic places alang the East
coast.
" Aroond here it was a' fermin', and of coorse there were
the big hooses and their estates that gied wark to a guid
wheen. Then aboot 1300 coal was discovered by accident.
In Dunfarlin, monks at Pittencrieff found ' black stanes that
burned ' on the sides of the burn that still runs through the
Glen. Coal was, as weel, found at Kelty on the banks o' the
bum at Blairadam. These were the upcast seams, the seams
o' coal that come to the surface when they ' crapt oot.'
" Ain o' these seams was discovered between Crossgates
and Inverkeithing, maybe when plooin' or, maist likely, when
a field drain was being laid. Hooever, there it was, a fermer
had coal at his very door. By that time there was a big
demand for the new fuel that lested longer than wooden
logs. Miners were ne'er heard tell o', so the fermer had to
get his ain men, aye, and women ana, the men tae dig the
coal and the women tae tak' it tae the surface in creels, like
fishwives' creels, or later like tattie creels, and empty them
into the ferm cairts an', bein' Jang afore the days o' railways,
the ferm labourer had tae dae a' the transport."
" But wha did they sell it tae? "
" Weel, there was their ferm hooses, the big hooses, and
coal was needed for the dryin' o' salt at Dysart. Cairts took
the coal, as weel, tae Inverkeithin' harbour, then in its prime,
and farther alang tae Chairlestown."
" But what has a' this tae dae wi' the Fordell miners
and their weys? "
" Weel, I'll tell you. Things were cairried on in this wey
until aboot a wee thing mair than fower hunder years ago.
James Henderson, a King's Advocate nae doot, for services
rendered, was presented wi' the lands o' Fordell by the King,
116 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
and he built Fordell Castle. The Laird later took a special
interest in this coal business, especially as there was surface
crap oot at Broomieside, no far tae the north o' the castle,
and as each was worked oot anither was sunk further north
until they came tae Drumcooper an' Vantage. The Hender-
sons maun hae dune mair than tak' a passin' interest, for
in Fordell Castle there is still a letter o' complaint frae the
Monks at Inch Colme aboot the quantity o' stanes in the
coal that had been sent tae them. So you see the complaints
aboot dirty coal were on the go lang ago an' it gies you an
inklin' that the Fordell Laird was in the coal business at the
time. There is nae doot aboot that and as weel he jist cairried
on wi' the custom o' takin' the workers on the ferms on
Fordell and the estate workers tae work the coal pits."
" So that means that the original Fordell miners were
aince ploomen, and their wives tae? "
"Exactly that laddie. That's the stock that bred the
Fordell miners I telt you aboot, hoo the first miners were
ploomen."
" Did you ever study the weys o' ploomen an' their
wark? "
" They were ' feed ' by the fermer at sae muckle a year,
that was generally twa or three shillin's a week, a bothy
for them no' mairried, parridge for their breakfast, a piece
for the middle o' the day and kail an' tatties at nicht. For
the mairried men they gat a hoose rent free and their wives
did milkin'. Their sons, if ony, got wark on the ferm and
they were " feed " as weel. A plooman hadna muckle option
in the maitter when he was asked to make the change. As
a plooman he worked as long as there was licht, stabled and
fed and brushed doon his pair o' horses every day, includin'
Sunday. He was ' tied ' tae his employer as a plooman so
he micht as weel be tied as a miner wi' the inducement of
shorter hours, Sunday off and bigger wages.
" Gradually the coal trade increased as additional pits
were sunk by the Fordell Coal Company when aboot 1790
an underground waterway, known as a ' day level ' was made
to carry the water frae the workin's to Fordell Burn, near
the coast. A waggon road, originally wooden rails, took the
coal tae St. David's, a private harbour built by ane o' the
lairds, and it wud surprise you tae ken the foreign pairts
whaur Fordell coal found its wey tae. The new pumpin' ar-
rangements and the day level had made the workin' o'
lower seams possible. Mair miners were needed but new
STORY OF THE FORDELL MINERS 117
generations o' Fordell miners solved the problem o' workers.
But there was the problem o' hooses and, like the ferm
workers, the miners were 'bund ower' but mair sae than
the ploomen, for the ferm hand was only feed for six
months or a year but the miner cudna change his gaffer
but were pairt o' the colliery as muckle as a hutch so you
can see that the laird had tae provide hooses for their
workers.
" They first of a' built the Moss Raw, then the square an'
Montieth Terrace and added tae that as time gaed on, but
only Fordell men and women got the jobs. The ' Store ' was
built and, as you ken, the miners were paid in groceries,
claes and even workin' graith. It was a minin' village in
every wey. Naebody but miners and their faimilies steyed
there and everythin' was looked efter by the coal owners.
They even built a schule and did ither things for them like
encouragin' them wi' their gairdens. Nae doot you'll be
wunnerin' whey I'm tellin' you a' this.
" You said a wee while syne that the ploomen were the
original Fordell miners an' I agree wi' you.
" I'm a guid sicht aulder than you, laddie, and I've had
a better chance o' studyin' the ploomen. Did you ever meet
sic a set o' silent men? Can you wunner at that? Tak a
plooman. He's up at the break o' day, and aye, often afore
it. He feeds his horse and sune efter he is followin' his horses
up and doon a field weel awa' oot o' any contact with any-
body. He talks tae his horses as he enters the stables. He
speaks tae them on the wey tae the field and a' forenoon
he tells them whan tae stop and start and whan tae turn
roond. It's ' hi woa back Tarn ' or ' keep in the furrow
Madge,' etc., when plooin' and the horses kens a' he says tae
them. He has a kindly word at feedin' time, a meal that is
never mislippened. He takes his mid-day meal wi' them
and sees tae them bein' fed and rubbed doon at the end o'
the day afore he thinks aboot his ain denner. His horses
are his freens and they never talk back tae him, and on
Sunday he is never far awa' frae them. If he has ony spare
time he tak's a walk maist often by himself whan, of course,
he disna talk to himsel', and if he has another plooman
wi' him the conversation is very limited and there is gener-
ally a silence as they walk or rest in their characteristic
fashion over a gate. Like the Fordell miners wi' their Paraud
they have a day or twa in the year sic like the feein' market
at Dunfarlin, or July Fair, but life to them is a monotonous
affair. They have a maister and they serve him well and
118 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
long service is a feature in their lives. I heard of a story
that just fits in here. A maister met wan o' his ploomen at
the yearly feein' market and, efter askin' how he was en-
joyin' himself, the maister said ' Of coorse, Wull, you'll no
be thinkin' o' gettin' feed to another fermer? ' The plooman
caused a surprise by saying he was thinkin' o' changin'. The
fermer, whan he got ower the shock, asked him if he wanted
somethin' he wisna gettin'. The reply of the plooman was,
' Weel, if I bide on I've got tae get a new brecham for
Jean.' You may laugh, for efter a' it's a guid joke. Here is
a man that didna think aboot gettin' better workin' conditions
for himseF and he had plenty reason for askin', and a' he
thocht o' was a new bit o' harness for ain o' his horses.
" Here is what I want you tae understand. In the aujd
days a plooman hadna muckle to pick and choose frae when
it came tae wark. As a laddie he had tae leave the schule
at the first chance tae help tae keep the hoose and the only
job open tae him was on the ferm. He warked awa' wi' jobs
until he got tae be an orra man, that was tae look efter wan
horse and did jobs wham* only wan horse was needed, wi'
his mind made up tae hae a pair. The size o' a ferm aye went
wi' the numbers o' pairs o' horses. The grieve aye had the
first pair and the ploomen had the second pair or the third
accordin' tae the size o' the ferm. When he got a pair he
was a man for hisseF and his waddin' wisna long efter."
" Jist like the young miners when they got a ' place ' o'
their ain at the pit."
" You're rale quick in the upta', laddie. There wisna
muckle difference between the weys o' daein' between the
ploomen and the miners as far as the conditions o' wark
maittered an' they jist cairried on in the auld wey."
" It was a peety that there wisna a Robbie Burns among
them."
" I often thocht that wey tae laddie. But you maun mind
that Burns wisna a fee'd plooman. He had a ferm o' his ain
and anitheer thing he had a better education than an ordin-
ary ferm hand. Nae doot mony a young plooman lad had
the same thochts as Burns had but hadna the same education
and cudna express them in rhyme or even ordinary prose.
He had his ups and doons tae and had his ain idea aboot
' man's inhumanity tae man.' I can easy see in my mind
Burns walkin' ahint a ploo, awa on his ain, makin' up his
poetry as he thocht aboot hoo the workin' man was kept
doon and aboot a' the hypocrisy in the warld among them
better aff, aye, even in the kirk. It's maybe a funny thing tae
STORY OF THE FORDELL MINERS 1 19
say but are we no gled that day that Burns wisna rnair
prosperous? Look what the world wud hae missed.
"Hooever, let that flee stick to the wa'. The ploomen
and them that eventually got tae be Fordell miners simply
took things as they cam', as it says in the poem, " their
sober wishes naver learned tae stray." There is ae thing
that sticks oot abune a' thing else and it is the effect on
their lives by the kindness and consideration given them
from the big hoose at Fordell. That kept them a' the gitfaer
as a village and community. They could never forget the
fact that a laird o' Fordell gave them their freedom from
serfdom, before it was compulsory, and the many kindnesses
both open and secret from Fordell House, especially Lady
Henderson. Every year for mair than a hunder years they
marched tae Fordell Hoose to thank them for what they
had done. That was their only open appreciation o' their
thanks. The rest they kept to themselves but they were none
the less sincere an' they kept them together as a community.
' Am I my brother's keeper? ' was never asked. It was to
them a religion."
Slowly rising, with a " guid nicht " we went our separate
ways home.
Fordell village is no more than a memory but in all
parts of the world there are those who have happy memories
of a village for which a suitable coat of arms would be a
pithead and a garden and the word " Service."
Personal stories and anecdotes
The Bowling Green
There were a few exceptions to the conservative life of
the village. One was the fact that the village could boast of
being one of the first in West Fife to have a bowling green.
It was laid out by the Fordell Coal Company next to
" Lovers' Loan " and the mineral railway, next to the
" Gaffer's " house. It was of a smaller size than the ones
laid out later in the district and gradually it fell into disuse.
In the village, quoiting was more favoured as a recreation,
when local duels attracted a large number.
Had own gas works
Another exception was the gas works, erected by Fordell
Coal Company, at the colliery workshop, but as a light it
was only made available for the workshops, the colliery
office and the village reading room, when before the days
of the incandescent burners the old-fashioned gas-jets were
in use. In the miners' houses there were only paraffin lamps.
These exceptions, which I am sure will come as a surprise
to the outside world, were never taken kindly by the village.
The coal used in the manufacture of the gas was the
" Parrot," a highly inflammable coal, not very plentiful and
only found in narrow seams about two feet in thickness.
It was very smooth and some of the miners, artistically
inclined, used to make beautiful brooches and small boots
which hung from their watch chains. An ordinary penknife
was the tool used and the finished article, even to the lace
of the boot, was uniquely artistic.
Harry Lauder
How many people are aware that Sir Harry Lauder had
a connection with Fordell? John Smart was my informant
when I paid him a visit one night to talk over old times and
he produced a photograph to prove his words. The picture
shown is the one he gave me and one can easily see it is
Harry Lauder, and the lady is his wife. The association with
Fordell is the fact that Mrs Lauder was the daughter of
Mr Valentine, the " gaffer " for many years in Fordell
Colliery, and Harry Lauder thus married a young lady well
PERSONAL STORIES AND ANECDOTES 121
known in the village as a girl. John told me he got the
picture from an Aberdour photographer many years ago,
so probably it was taken when the couple were on a visit
to Aberdour while they were residing in Portobello.
Oldest native
The question of who was the oldest native of Fordell has
always been the subject of much heated argument but very
few know that the oldest native was a frog, or known locally
as a " puddock," which was alive after an existence of
thousands of years. My father, while employed in the Lady
Ann Pit, broke up a large piece of ordinary coal when, to
his surprise, a frog jumped out. He caught it and found that
it had come from the coal because there was a vacancy the
exact shape and size as the frog. He brought it to our home
in Coles Terrace. At that time I was a very small boy and
I cannot recall exactly what happened to the frog but I
have the strong impression that Mr Morton sent the find to
a museum. The frog, of a dark brown colour, was very
probably a toad. It only lived for a few hours after it arrived
home.
"Smairt" Family
I mentioned the Smart family, pronounced " Smairt "
in the village. How many generations of the family resided
and were employed at Fordell is not known. It is known,
however, that John Bennet Smart was a miner in Fordell
and resided there for a long number of years. His son of the
same name was born there and remained all his life there.
He went to work in the pits there when nine years of age
and retired after an accident in 1879, a continued service of
seventy years. In his family there was another John Smart
who completed fifty years in the Fordell Pit while resident
in Fordell village. He then retired, a victim of rheumatism,
and came to reside at Cowdenbeath recently, where he cele-
brated his golden wedding. On that occasion he paid a visit
to his beloved Fordell only to see it in the process of de-
molition. When a boy he took a great interest in Fordell
Band and at last got a wish fulfilled when he became the
drummer, following in the steps of his tutor, Robbie Hardie.
At that time the Fordell Band was at the height of its popu-
larity and were always in request. He told me recently of
how they used to accompany the Dunfermline factory girls'
annual outing. He recalled one such outing when the band
went into Dunfermline with the factory train at five o'clock
122 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
in the morning, a train that started at Lochgelly taking the
girls to the "toon," as Dunfermline was best known by.
That morning they did not go to work but they assembled
at the Erskine Beveridge factory, 700 in all, and following
the band walked to the Upper Station, a walk over a mile,
where they went by special train to Dunkeld. On another
occasion this party went to Linlithgow where they caused a
great stir by dancing on the streets to the music of the band,
something new in the life of the sedate town, the popular
penny reel being danced eighteen times. This was to the
delight of the inhabitants and especially the publicans who,
he added, treated the members of the band handsomely.
John, however, committed an unpardonable village
offence for he married a " stranger." She was Jenny Arnott,
one of the eldest of the family of John Arnott, who went
to Fordell from Crossgates, but she was then only an infant
of one year. That family was never accepted as natives
though, as can be seen from the picture of the Amott family,
twelve in all with two absent, they must have been resident
in Fordell a very long time. I give you this picture for
another reason and that is to give a general idea of the large
families at that time. I leave you with the problem to solve
of how such a family resided in a two-roomed house. This
picture was taken about fifty years ago.
Fordell Band
Many of the stories of the village are associated with
Fordell Band and here is one that goes back to the days
of the toll gates. Returning one night from an engagement
they came to Auchtermuchty where a toll was collected after
midnight. It was kept by an old man and woman who de-
manded toll as it was past twelve. An argument took place
outside and a member of the band, Deil Broon, took ad-
vantage of the argument to slip into the house and turn a
grandfather's clock back an hour. After he returned un-
noticed he waited a short time and then said that for the
right time they would go by the time showing on their own
clock in the house, and added, " it was sharely only fair."
The old man and woman agreed to this at once and it was
only the next morning they realised they had been cheated.
On another occasion they were walking home from a
place nearer home when they asked for, and were given, a
lift in a farmer's corn cart. They soon fell asleep but so did
the driver and the unguided horse left the main road and
PERSONAL STORIES AND ANECDOTES 123
went into a grass field. The horse went round and round the
field and two hours later, when the driver woke up, it was
to find that they had only travelled a short distance of their
journey home.
A very prominent Fordell family was the Gibb family
of whom Peter was the big drummer for a long number of
years. After an engagement many miles from home Peter
became the owner of two hens which he killed and placed
inside the big drum after removing one of the skins, which
he cleverly replaced. A policeman entered upon the scene
and a search was made for the hens but despite remarks by
Peter that the policeman' was getting 'hot and cold" while
near the drum and going away from it, they were never
found and the hens found their way to an invalid in the
village on their return home.
The Beveridge twins, Rob and Will, were both members
of the Fordell Brass Band and on one occasion, when Dundee
was selected for the Fife Miners' Gala, they were in the band
that led the Fordell contingent. Because of the early rise,
that reason is as good as any, they both arrived at Dundee
much in need of a shave, and Rob took the first chance to
visit a barber who commented on the " heavy growth " of
his beard. Rob replied that he had shaved that morning,
which the barber said was impossible, but Rob assured him
that was so and added that he would be as bad in a few
hours' time. This the barber discredited and when Rob
maintained he was shaved that morning the barber challenged
him on the point and if he came back any time that day
he would shave him free and give him half-a-crown. Here
was a grand chance to get half-a-crown and get his twin
brother Will a free shave, so a few hours later Will went
into the shop and said, " Here T am for that shave and the
' hauf croon '." The trick came off and the twins boasted of
how they had " bate " the Dundee barber for a long time
afterwards.
Two cronies of the village, no names this time, both
members of the band, used to have great arguments about
their ability to play when they met in Mrs Hamilton's and
their arguments used to be carried on as well about their
work. They never got together in a social capacity but they
would argue about something or other to the great amuse-
ment of the others in their company. But one died and was
buried in Mossgreen Churchyard, quite near but higher up
than the main road, in front of the church. Some time after-
124 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
wards his cronie was proceeding home carrying " one over
the eight " when he staggered against the cemetery wall and
fell. Looking up he said, " Tak' in your big feet Will and
no' hae folk fa'in' owre them."
Not far away was the well-known Coaledge public house.
The local name for it was " College " and this led to an
amusing dialogue one night when a well-known Fordell man,
who was the Paraud Deacon for many years, met an old
friend inside. The friend, whom he had not seen for some
time, said that he had been disappointed with his son whom
he had sent to college for several years and he had not
passed. Whereupon the Deacon said, " Man Jimmy, dinna
let that worry you owre muckle. I've gaen tae the College for
fifty years and I hivna passed it aince."
A story is told of how a well-known Fordell man, after
leaving the " College " for his home in the Square, forgot
to turn in to that row of miners' houses and went straight on.
Eventually he slipped down a small embankment and finished
up with his feet in a small burn and he fell asleep. A man
passing by wakened him but, thinking he was in bed, said
drowsily, " Mither, pit the blankets owre ma feet " and
looking towards a waning moon added " and pit that candle
oot."
The drummer who lost his band
There are two versions of this story and you can take
your choice of the right one.
Fordell Band were engaged for " Dirthill " Flower Show
and duly appeared in the village after their walk from
Fordell. The drummer, Peter Gibb, at the rear of the band,
was under the impression that they were to march to James
Street and then on their return to go down the Aberdour
Road to the school where the Flower Show was held. But
the rest of the band did otherwise and turned down towards
the school and did not go up the hill to James Street. Peter,
behind the big drum, did not see this and he went proudly
on all on his own until he was over the hill. It was then he
realised this and, looking at the crowd, now laughing, came
out with the now famous expression, " Have you seen a band
onywey."
The other version is that it was Robbie Hardie who was
the drummer and the incident took place on a Friday night
when the band went up the College Brae instead of going
along Coles Terrace as was their usual practice. Those who
PERSONAL STORIES AND ANECDOTES 125
favour the latter version argue that it must have been Hardie
as he was a smaller man, but George Gibb, nephew of Peter
Gibb, says there is no doubt but that it was his Uncle Peter.
Umbrella feat
Bob tells of another Gibb story which I have heard from
another two sources. The three brothers Peter, Geordie and
Frank were standing at the College one " lag " Saturday
forenoon, on a very warm day in July, with a strong
" drooth " (thirst) after the night before but without the
wherewithal to quench it. I am convinced that this applied
more to Peter and Geordie than to Frank who only joined
in the " ploy." They were at a loss to know how to get the
drink of beer they so much wanted and at last Peter con-
ceived a plan which he put into action. He went into a house
there and came out with a big umbrella. They sat down to
await the arrival of the " beer cairt " from Dunfermline, on
its way to Dirthill. This was a horse and a lorry that carried
a load of big bottles of beer, known as " Prestonpans," which
the driver sold to customers on his round. When the " beer
cairt" approached Peter opened the big umbrella and pro-
ceeded to walk in front of the " cairt." The sight of a man
carrying a big umbrella on such a warm day, with the sun
beating down, attracted the attention of the driver so much
that he made up his mind that the man was " aff his heid."
He kept watching Peter so closely that he did not notice
Geordie and Frank following up and hiding behind the
" cairt " taking as many bottles of beer and " planking "
them on the roadside to be reclaimed later.
The battle of Fordell
Right in front of the old schoolhouse is a field which I
often heard referred to as " The Battlefield " and eventually
I made inquiries of the oldest natives as to the reason of
the name. It was then I was told that the village was " up
sides wi' Inverkeithing and has it's battle tae." The story,
handed down during the generations, is that Cromwell
fought a battle there — against whom was never stated. Rab
Penman told me it was referred to in a historical book he
got in " Dunf arlin " and he took it to Lammas Fair at In-
verkeithing to show the folk there that they " cood bounce
aboot a battle an' a' " and didn't remember bringing it back
home that night. Whiles, he said, there was a talk to erect a
stone in the field but " it aye fell throo."
126 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES
Touching scenes
Many stories are told about the strong devotion Fordell
Watties had for their native village and how many had sacri-
ficed opportunities to improve their own position and, more
important, the opportunities to their families for advance-
ment by leaving their native village to be employed in places
where there were more than the one industry. They fully
realised that not only would they get better social conditions
for themselves but that their family could select other call-
ings and escape from the foreboding prospect of a life asso-
ciated only with the mining industry and how they could
get ambitions realised but the village ties and their camer-
aderie were too strong to permit of them giving such a
suggestion more than a passing thought. Some were tempted
to leave when a strong temptation of bigger wages came
along but of that number a very few left the village for good.
Most of them returned to the village and of them it was
stated that they were only too glad to return. They simply
could not stay away and were so glad to come back that
they swore they would never go away again and that they
were so pleased to come back to the family circle that they
felt they " could kiss the rails " that ran throughout the
village.
I put this to an old native, Jimmy Muir, when I met him
at Cowdenbeath and he laughed heartily at the thought of
miners kissing the rails but shortly afterwards admitted
" there's an awfu' lot in what you say."
There were very strong indications of the great love the
older members of the families had for the village when the
village was condemned. Many simply refused to leave and
drastic action had to be taken by taking the roofs off the
houses. There were many touching scenes as the miners and
their wives followed their furniture as it was carted away
to houses in Crossgates and Halbeath. One old lady simply
refused to leave. She was the very last in the village and
resided in the only house left with a roof. However, she had
to go and as the roof was taken from the house her furniture
was being taken to a furniture van. The last scene of all was
when she was escorted quietly from her home and the home
of her forbears for many generations with tears running
down her face. When the " College Brae " was reached the
van was stopped and she was given her last look of her
beloved Fordell.
This picture I will carry in my memory as long as I live.
PERSONAL STORIES AND ANECDOTES 127
Today the village is derelict but it is so easy to depicl
the village as it was in my school days and relive the many
scenes in this unique Scottish village. Only a few yards away
is Mossgreen Churchyard and, as the darkness deepens, it
does not take a strong imagination to see the spirits of well-
known figures in the life of the village having a last look
down on the Fordell they loved so much.